I'm Gonna Give All My Secrets Away
by loveanchocolate
Summary: Blaine is a senior in high school, on the football team, gay, and tired of keeping all these secrets. When he can't take it anymore, he starts writing love letters to Kurt, an openly gay student and his best friends step-brother.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I don't know if any of you are reading my other story "For the Love of Shoes," but if you are, a new chapter is on the way! I apologize for not updating for like, a month, but I sort of got writers block :( But it's not over yet! **

**But in the meantime have this story! Hope you guys enjoy!**

Blaine hadn't always known that he was gay.

There was no big epiphany or big moment for him like in the movies, he had to figure out everything for himself. Along with the help of the internet and, of course, the coarse locker-room language of his fellow team mates, Blaine eventually found out what it truly meant to be a "cock-sucker."

It was a combination of a lot of little things he asked himself, and didn't really know the answer too. He just assumed he was a normal teenaged boy. Blaine had no idea that it wasn't completely normal for a heterosexual fourteen year-old male to be trying to catch peeks of other boys in the showers. He thought he was just curious (and boy, was he) and he thought that all boys did that; it was just human nature.

And the books said it was human nature, right? Humans were naturally curious, therefore all the guys obviously like to look at other guys. At the time this logic made perfect sense to Blaine, he honestly believed himself.

Although, after awhile, Blaine didn't just want to look, oh no. He wanted to _touch_. Up until then, Blaine had been please with merely the views of the handsome boys around him. But as junior high turned into high school, Blaine watched in awe as the boys slowly turned into men. Baby fat and round faces were lost and gave into more defined features and muscles.

Blaine wanted to feel the hard, hot muscles quivering under his fingertips, and in his more scandalous visions, he maybe even wanted to feel them under his tongue. He wanted to run his fingers through the a boys short hair, down their neck and across rough stubble.

In class when Blaine was bored he would look around the room at his boy classmates, his eyes always settling on the attractive boys, and played out ridiculous scenarios in his mind. Most of the time Blaine would end up with a single shiver running down his spine and goosebumps, then with a red-tinge to his cheeks, subtly sliding a textbook onto his lap.

While the other boys were jumping through hoops with their girlfriends just to cop a feel under her shirt, Blaine was in his kitchen, guiltily holding a banana in his hand, wondering it another boys cock would feel like this. And what would it be like to put it in his mouth? Blaine knew what a blowjob was, but he didn't really understand it, but he wanted to.

It wasn't until Blaine was almost sixteen until he was aware that other boys didn't look at each like that in the locker room. It was a wake-up call in the rudest way possible, and it was the starting event that locked the door and threw away the key to Blaine's metaphorical closet.

The summer right before his sophomore year of high-school he attended a summer football camp. Blaine had loads of fun playing the sport that he loved, but when he looked back on his experience at the camp (and he tried not to), all he could remember was James.

James was two years older than Blaine, an uprising senior. He was well-liked and popular, polite, and quite handsome with an excellent body. Blaine (along with the entire female population of Ohio) was completely smitten, and at first he couldn't explain why, or maybe he didn't want to. It was easier to be mindless attracted to James than try to put a label on what he was feeling.

Blaine found himself always wanting to be around James, always showed off whenever James was around. Blaine told himself that it was because he looked up to James, that he wanted to be just like him.

However, in the middle of the night when no one was awake, Blaine found himself nervously slipping a shaky hand into his pajama bottoms, his thoughts full of James dirty blonde hair toned stomach and Blaine's own stomach churning with _something_. He knew he looked up to James, but _oh god _what would it be like to have James inside of him? Usually those fantasies didn't last longer than a minute, ending with a sticky hand and a bloody lip from where he had been biting it, and it left Blaine feeling guilty for days on end.

Blaine explained it to himself as weird teenage boy hormones; Every boy must have these kinds of thoughts, right? And if that wasn't enough of an explanation, Blaine had been straining himself a lot at camp lately, it must be that.

This continued the entire summer.

On the last day of camp, the junior varsity boys were cleaning out their lockers. Blaine had purposely took a long time so that he was still there when the senior varsity guys came in after their last practice to shower and clean out their respective lockers. Blaine had felt his stomach do back-flips as he heard James cool voice carry through the locker rooms.

James' locker was almost directly across from Blaine's. He noisily stuffed his stuff in his bag while shouting and joking around with his team mates across the locker room.

Soon enough, most of the people exited the locker room and soon enough, it was only Blaine and James in the room. Blaine could feel James' eyes boring into his back, and he felt the room shrinking as he packed his stuff in his duffell for the third time that day.

Blaine felt his hands shaking and he could feel his palms and underarms sweating. He felt as if his entire body was electrically wired. Every single sound that James made, Blaine could feel running through his blood like an electric current.

"Blaine, right?" James had asked. He set his bag down on the ground and leaned against the metal lockers, arms crossed.

Blaine jumped and turned around at the sound of his name being said by James. Blaine felt as if his head was made of air, he couldn't think properly, the only think going through his mind was _JamesJamesJames. _Blaine finally managed to nod his head, and James grinned.

It was so charming and was more than enough to jump-start the butterflies in Blaine's stomach into overdrive.

James then chuckled and stepped over the wooden bench that had been separating them. Blaine felt his heart beating faster and faster as the distance between him and James closed inch by inch. James was so close Blaine could see the light freckles on his nose and the barely there stubble on his chin and jaw. He was beautiful.

"I saw you watching me.." James dipped his head near Blaine ear and whispered this. Blaine felt all the air leave his body and he felt deflated, yet he still felt like he was going to float away any second.

James leaned in even closer, his body heat radiating off of him and onto Blaine, who felt it all through his body, including his dick. Blaine let out a noisy breath, and James chuckled lightly, bringing his fingertips to Blaine's jaw and stroking the smooth skin of Blaine's cheek. The temperature in the room felt like it had shot up about twenty degrees and Blaine felt faint, a warm flush creeping through his entire body.

In a brief bout of courage Blaine lifted his eyes from the floor and found himself immersed into James intense stare. James eyes were the faintest blue with little specks of a darker blue, his eyelashes were thick and paired with his blonde hair and freckles, Blaine couldn't think of any other word than _dreamy _to describe James.

James smiled again, and Blaine awkwardly returned it, feeling his heart expand to what he felt was an abnormal size. It felt as if the blood in Blaine's body had been multiplied by ten and his heart was thumping twice as hard to pump it through his body.

James kept smiling, and all Blaine could see were his lips. Very pink, not too full, stretched over dazzlingly white teeth.

Blaine started to lean in, his eyes still focused on James' mouth, and the thoughts were running a mile a minute through his mind. _Oh my gosh, what if this is my first kiss? Will he be my boyfriend? Do I even want him to be my boyfriend? Will James take off his shirt?_

But then without warning James hand flew down and grabbed Blaine's crotch, his fingers closing tightly over Blaine's dick, which was obviously aroused. Blaine gasped sharply, slamming his head into the lockers behind him with a loud _clang _that echoed throughout the deserted locker room.

Eyes watering in pain, Blaine watched as James picked up his bag and exited the locker-room with a bounce in his step. "You fucking owe me twenty bucks!" yelled James. And through the propped open door of the locker-room, Blaine heard some guys laugh and cheer and some groaning over the loss of their money.

"Told you he was a fag, now pay up!"

The voices faded as the group made their way out the gym and they were completely silenced with the slam of the gym door behind them. Blaine stood rooted to the spot for several minutes as sluggish thoughts ran through his head. What exactly had just happened?

It made him feel sick, and he had a sudden urge to go take a shower. And to make himself feel worse, Blaine was still inexplicably turned on by the way James had touched him. Half of Blaine wanted to scream and punch everything in sight and the other half just wanted to get off and be touched by someone, _anyone. _He wanted James so _bad... _

The clock ticked quietly in the corner, it read quarter past one. His parents would be wondering where he was if he didn't come soon, he knew that they would come looking for him. Blaine slowly gathered up his things and exited the locker room slowly, not looking back over his shoulder.

Blaine walked quietly so he could hear if there were other campers still hanging around. Luckily, Blaine made it to his parents car without meeting a single fellow camper. Blaine yanked open the side door and threw his stuff in with maybe a little bit more force than necessary, then climbed into the passenger seat. His dad was driving.

"Hey, Blaine. How was the last day of camp?" He asked, then looked over at Blaine, when he saw the strange expression on Blaine's face, he looked concerned. "You alright?"

_No. I feel humiliated and dirty and cheap. Football sucks, James sucks and I hate that I think he's still sexy, and everybody else sucks. There's also no getting around at the fact that I like boys. I'm gay, Dad._

Blaine nodded his head, "yeah, I'm fine. Just a little light-headed; I don't think I drank enough water at practice today."

"Well, I'll make sure to get you some water when we get home, champ." Blaine's dad ruffled his hair and put the car in reverse. And that was the end of that conversation.

And after that day, Blaine vowed that nobody would ever know that he was gay.

OOOOOOOOOO

The shrill bell signaling the end of another school day at McKinley High School rang and the kids of Blaine's US History class immediately starting packing up, ignoring the teachers last attempts of shoving information down their throats.

Blaine haphazardly threw papers into his binder and then shoved it in his bag. He grabbed his phone out of the side pocket, and shouldered his bag and followed the line of students out the classroom door.

He turned his phone on as he walked through the packed hallway. Blaine was patiently herded through the tight hallways, taking the chance to look around at this classmates.

Blaine caught the eye of a couple of his football teammates, giving them the customary nod, and if they were close enough the handshake.

"'Sup, dude," said Puck, a fellow senior and team mate. The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Puck had no problem of getting the ladies. Although, lately it seemed as if he had settled down with one lucky lady by the name of Lauren Zizes, who Blaine personally loved from afar.

Blaine had a few classes with her, and he was constantly amused by her take-no-shit attitude and snarky comments. He heard that she had joined the Glee club in return for a make-out session with Puck, but Blaine had no idea if this was true, it was just hearsay based on the contents of Ben Israels blog.

"Hey, Puck." Blaine reached over a freshman, who hurriedly scurried away, and fist bumped Puck. "You coming to the party tonight?" Puck asked, pulling out his phone. They pulled themselves out from the sea of people and leaned against the lockers as Puck texted someone.

"Nah, I can't. I got a history project that I gotta do." Blaine said lamely, he knew there was no use in lying, so he told a half truth. "If I don't do this, I fail history and I'm off the team." Another half-truth. Blaine had actually already finished the project and needed to do the extra credit portion of it, or else he would just get an A in his history class instead of an A+. But Puck really didn't need to know that.

"That blows, dude. Well hopefully next time. Now I gotta tell all the cheerleaders you're not gonna be there. Seriously, dude, Ellie has like a reservation for you in her panties, you need to _get on that._" Puck punched Blaine's shoulder and took off, shouting a "see you later, dude!" over his shoulder.

Blaine stood leaning against the lockers, feeling a little bit lost. People were still shuffling noisily by him, some of them waving or sending a "hey, Blaine" his way. He half-heartedly returned their waves and smiles, his mind churning what Puck had said over and over again.

"_You need to get on that." _Did Blaine really? If he didn't _get on that_ would the guys think he was gay? Blaine really hoped that wasn't the case. Ellie was a sweet girl, with long pretty brown hair and long legs, but really wasn't Blaine's type. As in, she didn't have a dick.

Blaine had previously considered getting a girlfriend to use as a beard or whatever, but he always talked himself out of it. What if he went to have sex with her and he couldn't get it up? What if he moaned a guys name?

No matter who he slept with, whatever mortifying thing he had done would make it around the school within minutes. McKinley High didn't get many scandals, so when they got one, it didn't blow over within a few days, it would stick with Blaine for the rest of his high school career.

Blaine pushed himself back into the flow of students and found himself right behind Kurt Hummel, his best friend's step-brother. He swallowed thickly and tried his best to keep his eyes off of Kurt's ass. Blaine wasn't like, in love with Kurt or anything, he just thought he was attractive. _Insanely _attractive. And Blaine allowed himself privileges to look at Kurt in _that _way because Kurt was actually gay, it's not like he was looking at straight guys.

Trying to be subtle, Blaine took out his phone and pretended to text, while he was actually looking past the screen and at the way Kurt's hips shook and how every time he took a step his pants would tighten around his thighs and ass, and _wow_, what would Kurt's ass feel like under Blaine's fingers- and _okay, _this was getting into dangerous territory.

Blaine pushed Kurt out of his mind, because he was not going to perv out of Finn's step-brother in public. But fate seemed to hate him, because all of the sudden Kurt's ass turned into to Kurt's crotch and he was totally caught staring.

Blaine quickly pretended that he had been texting and looked up at Kurt, who was looking at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows, "I said Finn went home sick today and he left his phone in his locker, so you probably shouldn't come over today, he looked really bad." Kurt spun the lock with slender fingers, and Blaine tore his eyes away, trying not to envision how much fun he could have with those fingers.

"Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me."

"Yup," muttered Kurt, who was now focused on grabbing his stuff from his locker as quickly as possible.

"Well, bye." Blaine cleared his throat awkwardly and hurried off, but, for some reason, he took note of Kurt's locker number. _256. _Blaine made a mental note to maybe pass this way more often during class changes.

_256. _Blaine reached into the side pocket of his backpack and dug out a pen. He had to test it a few times on his hand, but it finally worked. Blaine opened his hand, and in the center of his palm he wrote the three numbers. Two, five and six.

**Okay, this was obviously just a background kind of chapter. I will have another chapter up tomorrow, and it will have more substance I promise :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**As promised, here is the second chapter! I would like to thank all the people who reviewed already! Wow! It makes me so happy! Enjoy this chapter guys!**

A few days later, Finn was fully recovered from his fever of 102 and was back to his normal self. Who was still horrible at video games.

"You loser! Oh my fucking god!" Finn yelled loudly, as he viciously stabbed the video game controller with his thumbs on a vain attempt at keeping his video game self alive. Finn threw his controller down on the floor in anger as his screen flashed _Game Over_ and stood up quickly, pointing and yelling at Blaine, who was still sitting on the floor, laughing and clearly enjoying the show Finn was putting on.

"You bastard! You killed me!"

Blaine just laughed mercilessly and continued shooting Finn's character. Blaine threw the controller down like he just scored a touchdown and shouted at Finn, "in your face! You loser!" Blaine threw his head back and laughed evilly as Finn continued to yell in despair, flailing his arms in the general direction of the television screen.

"I'm going to go get something to drink," said Blaine, setting down his controller. He pushed himself up and made his way towards the door, stopping with his hand on the doorknob. "You want anything?" asked Blaine.

Before he turned around, Blaine heard a thump and he knew that Finn was now laying face down on the floor, looking quite pathetic. Finn made a sad noise in the back of his throat that Blaine took for as a no. "Alright, man. I'll be right back."

Blaine ran quickly down the stairs, skidding on the second to last step and almost sent himself falling face first. He took the last stair quite carefully and continued on his way to the kitchen, congratulating himself for not breaking his nose.

When Blaine stepped into the kitchen he immediately spotted Kurt, Blaine's sort-of crush of three years, at the kitchen table, leaning over what Blaine presumed was his homework.

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt said, not looking up from his homework. This was usually the extent of their interaction, they maybe had a few sentence conversations during school but that was it. Blaine had been spending most of his days at Finn's house ever since he met Finn in freshman year, which meant he saw Kurt almost every day too, but they still weren't all that close.

"Hey, Kurt."

Blaine hadn't really known Kurt before his Junior year, though, since Kurt and Finn's parents didn't start dating until Junior year. However, Blaine had been no stranger to the name Kurt Hummel, or as Blaine took to calling him (even though it made him feel immensely guilty), along with his team mates, "Lady." Blaine had been hanging around with the guys who had made Kurt's life a living hell, and he had witnessed from the background Kurt's quick wit and sharp tongue.

Blaine had tried his best to ignore Kurt in every way possible throughout his first two years of high school. He ignored Kurt's out-and-proud attitude, his flashy clothes, and on the rare occasion, when Kurt smiled. And it absolutely terrified Blaine that he found everything about Kurt Hummel attractive.

Kurt had been smiling a lot more lately. Blaine supposed it had been because of that Glee club that both Kurt and Finn belonged to. At first Blaine was tempted to join, he wasn't all that bad of a singer, but Blaine had watched from the sidelines all the stuff Finn had to go through with the football team and his fall from his throne in the high-school hierarchy and decided that he was very comfortable where he was. Not quite at the top of the high-school food chain, but definitely not at the bottom. No one was asking for his autograph or anything, but Blaine came home from school everyday slushie-facial free and on game days, his back a little sore from people clapping his shoulders.

Also, needless to say, Kurt was gay. Gay as in he liked dick. As in he could like Blaine, in _that _way and there was a possibility that Blaine could like Kurt in _that _way, too. And if the pants that Kurt Hummel wore to school on a daily basis were anything to go by, Blaine would not mind in the slightest if Kurt wanted him.

What he did mind, though, was the fact that just hanging out with Kurt was a death sentence. And if Blaine would get slushied (football team or not) for hanging out with Kurt, what would they do, what would they _say_, if they knew Blaine had maybe wondered once or twice what Kurt's mouth tasted like.

Blaine walked over the refrigerator door covered in calendars and reminders and pulled it open, blinking at the bright light. He scanned the contents of the fridge, spotting some Dr. Peppers. Blaine grabbed two of them, knowing that Finn would decide he wanted one as soon as he saw Blaine's drink.

Blaine shut the refrigerator door and went to go grab some napkins, when he heard Kurt.

"_Ugh,_" Kurt groaned, slamming his forehead down on the table. Blaine's hand stopped halfway to the napkins and turned to look at Kurt. Blaine sort of swayed unbalanced on the spot with his arm outstretched, he had no idea what to do. Should he talk to Kurt? Or should he leave?

"I hate math," Kurt said, his voice still muffled by the table. Blaine set down the two sodas on the counter and walked over to Kurt, wiping the condensation from the drinks on his pants.

"What math is it?" Blaine asked, standing over Kurt. Blaine saw that Kurt tensed up in the tiniest bit, and Blaine realized that maybe Kurt didn't like to be stood over. So Blaine drew up a chair and sat down next to Kurt, who was looking at Blaine with an apprehensive look, not sure why Blaine was sitting next to him.

Blaine's mind was mentally berating himself, repeating _what are you doing? This is a bad idea! Go back up stairs and play video games with Finn. _But Blaine could not find the willpower to leave the kitchen, especially when Kurt was making groaning noises that could definitely be applied to Blaine's fantasies.

Not that he had any about Kurt.

But for some reason there was Blaine, sitting next to Kurt, helping him with his _math homework. _Could Blaine get any more lame? _Why am I so stupid, what am I doing? _

"Trig." Kurt slammed his pencil down next to the paper and brought his fingers up to rub his temples, closing his eyes. "I hate math. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it..."

Blaine reached over and picked up the pencil, leaning towards Kurt's homework so he could see better. He immediately spotted what Kurt was going wrong and erased his work. "Here," said Blaine, motioning for Kurt to watch.

"You replaced the wrong angle with cosine, instead of using tangent. It's a simple mistake really, you just have to know what kind of triangle it is.." Blaine gave the pencil back to Kurt, who was shaking his head in disbelief. Kurt's fingers brushed against his for several seconds, as Kurt was distracted by his homework. "It's just memorization stuff," Blaine added awkwardly, blushing as he pulled his hand away from the pencil.

"Are you serious? That's all I was doing wrong? Oh my god, I am so stupid." Kurt exclaimed, clearly annoyed with himself. Blaine shook his head, "no, it's a common mistake, really," Blaine said reassuringly.

"Thanks, what math are you in again?" Kurt smiled up at Blaine, and Blaine was taken by surprise about just how close he was to Kurt. It's not like they were kissing distance or anything, but it was closer than they had ever been to each other in their lives and Blaine couldn't help but feeling like he was floating. Blaine found a small smile turning his lips, then suddenly realized that Kurt had asked him a question and he was staring like an idiot.

"You're welcome, and I'm in advanced Calculus," he stuttered out awkwardly, and Kurt looked impressed. "I gotta get back upstairs to Finn, I think he might try to hang himself from the rafters after the beating I just gave him, haha."

Blaine stood up too quickly from his chair and his ankle ended up getting caught in the chair leg and he stumbled a little bit. Blaine tried to laugh it off, feeling horribly embarrassed as he hurried out of the room, trying to push Kurt's _knowing, amused, sweet? _smile from from his mind.

When Blaine came back into Finn's messy room he found Finn already situated in front of the television, a controller in hand. "What took you so long, dude? I'm so ready to kick your ass this time!"

Blaine laughed and pushed his thoughts about Kurt's eyes and smiler out of his head. He threw Finn's Dr. Pepper at him, "yeah right, bring it on!" He plopped himself next to Finn and picked up the other controller, ready to give Finn his video-game ass handed to him on a platter.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

That night Blaine lay awake in bed, his thoughts all jumbled up in a huge mess and he couldn't stay on a train of thought that didn't involve _Kurt._

Why was Kurt affecting him so much lately? It hadn't always been this way. Usually Blaine could suppress his awkward, nerdy, and gay self and act like a normal human being, what was going on? It's not like his crush on Kurt was new or anything. Blaine had been noticing Kurt since freshman year, although he had only allowed himself to look at Kurt lately.

But he guessed it didn't help that Kurt decided to go through puberty overnight and wake up the next day a freaking sex god.

_Just this once, _thought Blaine, his eyes fluttering closed and his fingers slipped through the waistband of his pajama bottoms. _Just this once and I'll stop, I won't do it again...just this once._

Thoughts of Kurt flooded Blaine's mind. What Kurt would taste like? Blaine didn't know. But he did know what Kurt smelled like. Lavender and Vanilla, and sometimes cinnamon.

Blaine knew this because occasionally Kurt came into Finn's room and just hung out with him and Blaine, and Blaine always made sure he was sitting next to Kurt. Blaine remembered with a jolt when Kurt leaned over him once, and Blaine had watched transfixed as the tight shirt Kurt was wearing stretched over his back muscles, and _oh god _how Blaine wanted to touch...

Blaine thought that maybe Kurt would be kind of demanding in bed, at least he hoped so. He liked that about Kurt, he was so outspoken; the complete opposite of Blaine.

In his mind, Kurt straddled Blaine at the hips and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a skinny waist and tiny pink nipples, and Kurt would kiss him with his soft lips, and what would it feel like to have another guy's dick, hard and ready up against his thigh?

Blaine imagined that it would be good, _so _good, not because it was a guy but because it was _Kurt_, and Kurt made these noises sometimes when Finn hit him with pillows and Kurt would probably make sexier versions of those noises while Blaine touched him.

Biting his lower lip, Blaine kicked off his pajama bottoms completely, his back arching a few inches off the bed. Behind his closed eyes, Kurt was on top of him, riding him and _oh god,_ Blaine knew that Kurt would feel tight, _so tight _and he would moan and throw his head back, revealing his smooth and pale neck, and _oh._

The bed bounced a little as Blaine collapsed on his back, feeling weightless, lazy and like he had no bones left in his body. He felt completely spent, and he knew it was because of Kurt. Kurt was going to drive him crazy, with his adorable smiles and great body, it was just a matter of time before he went completely insane. But Blaine knew he couldn't do anything about it, he still had several months of high school left. He could keep the door to his rainbow closet shut until then. After all, Blaine had had it bolted firmly shut for years now, what was a few months?

But then Kurt seeped into his thoughts again, would Kurt cuddle after sex, or would he be up and ready for round two? Either way, Blaine closed his eyes and let himself slip guiltily into another fantasy.

_Just this once..._

OOOOOOOOOO

"So Kurt told me you helped him with his math homework."

Blaine's hand froze over the paper he was writing on, then quickly recovered. "Yeah, so?" Blaine shrugged and tried to place an expression of nonchalance on his face. "He said he was having some issues, so I helped him a bit."

Finn must have noticed that Blaine seemed a little on the defensive side, "no, man. I think that's great that you helped him," Finn took a bite of food, pointed at Blaine with his fork and added, "you know Kurt used to be afraid of you?"

"What?" Blaine looked up from his homework, startled. "What do you mean he was afraid of me?" How was Blaine supposed to get Kurt to be his boyfriend if Kurt was scared of him?

_Wait, what?_

"Like, when me and Kurt's parents moved in together, Kurt was really freaked out that you were always around. For some strange reason he thought that you were like the other guys on the football team. He thought you were going to shove his head in the toilet at his own house-"

"I would never-" Blaine tried to interject, but Finn held up his hand and continued, "I _know, _but Kurt thought that! At first I mean, after awhile he realized that you're just a nerdy guy who spends all his time at my house. He's not scared of you know, he actually seemed sort of happy about it."

"Wait, you mean-"

Finn started laughing, "oh no! No, dude, don't worry it's not like he _likes _you or anything! It's just that you're on the football team and you don't have a problem with him being gay or whatever. But don't even worry, he's not going to start like, hitting on you or anything."

Blaine nodded his head and laughed along with Finn uneasily, "yeah, no. I mean that's the last thing I want, right?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow! I am so amazed at the positive response I've gotten from this story! Aaah! I'm just really happy :3 I love all you guys!**

**And I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow, but I figured I would be nice and give it to you guys early :) Enjoooy!**

The next week or so Blaine was flooded with work from all of his classes. He found himself barely staying awake in school, chugging down energy drink after energy drink throughout the day, and then running off to football practice until five. Then Blaine would go home and do all of his homework for into the early hours of the morning.

He maybe got a grand total of three hours of sleep each night. He was _exhausted._ Oh yeah, and the whole Kurt thing wasn't helping either (Kurt had decided that wearing pants five sizes too small were the new _in_ thing). Blaine had thought that maybe he had gotten Kurt out of his system, and Blaine could move on with his life, but it didn't work that way.

It seemed everywhere Blaine went, Kurt was nearby. In the lunchroom, the hallway, the gym, at Finn's house. Kurt was always there. And who knew, maybe Kurt had always been there and Blaine just hadn't (or made himself) not notice Kurt. All Blaine knew is that Kurt was there now.

And whatever the case was, it wasn't helping Blaine's strained state of mind.

_At least it's game day, _thought Blaine, attempting to look on the bright side. After this game there were two more games in the season, left in Blaine's high school career. He had to focus, he had to make them good, had to make them count.

The team all around him were all vibrating with excitement, they were playing a team they had never beat before in the history of the school, but now they had Coach Beiste, who was standing in front of them, a proud look on her face. The other team wouldn't even know what hit them.

"You guys ready?" She asked quietly, a smirk in her lips. The team nodded back, barely holding back their eagerness.

"_Are you guys ready?" _This time Coach Beiste yelled, throwing her fist in the air as her prized team exploded with cheers and yells. Blaine stood up off his chair and yelled along with the other boys.

"_Let's do this!"_

OOOOOOOOOO

The bright white lights shined fiercely down on the players of McKinley High School's football team There were five minutes left in the game, they were winning, and it felt wonderful, Blaine felt wonderful. For the first time in days Blaine's mind felt clear and focused.

This is was Blaine played football for, the bright lights and shouts and cheers from the crowd barely registering in his mind as he watched the players in front of him set the ball. The crowd became a dull roar as the ball was thrown and all Blaine could think was _winning. _

"_Hudson! What are you doing?" _

Blaine jerked his head up at the yell of Coach Beiste, and he immediately spotted Finn, and what on earth was he doing?

The whistle blew, and Blaine jogged back to their coach, who was looking furious. As soon as he was near enough, he could hear Coach Beiste's angry words directed at Finn, who was sputtering helplessly back at her.

"Are you trying to lose?"

"I'm sorry-I don't know what happened-"

"Why don't we just _give _the ball to them_!" _

The rest of the team stood by, their eyes cast downward, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. The Coach clapped her hands and beckoned all the boys to form a circle; Finn looking very relieved that he was not getting yelled at anymore.

"Look, we got his game in the bag, but let's just try to get the last point. Whatever Finn calls, do. I don't want any arguments! Follow Finn. Now go!" Finn gave a surprised look at the Coach, but smiling as he clapped his hands together, happy for a chance to redeem himself.

The teams hurried off to their positions, their eyes trained on Finn for a hint of what play they were about to pull of. Finn looked at the guys and made a two finger salute, and all the guys nodded in understanding.

All the sudden the ball was in play, and Blaine felt all the tension drain from his body because once again, all he could think about was _winning _and maybe a little bit of, _oh shit, that guy is huge I can't intercept that guy I'm going to die, oh god-_

But the guy was closing in on Finn and Coach Beiste said _try to get the last point. _And okay, they were going to _get the last point._

Blaine threw himself at the guy just before he could reach Finn. Miraculously, the rival team member was caught off guard, and was tackled to the ground by Blaine, who was about five inches shorter than that guy, and probably about fifty pounds lighter.

Out of the corner of his eye Blaine saw the crowd jump to their feet, jumping up and down. It was a sight to see, people jumping up and down like that. Finn must have gotten the touchdown. Blaine scanned the crowd and immediately found Kurt, waving his arms around like a maniac, then cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling something, and he was looking _right at Blaine_.

Blaine felt his own hand wave weakly back to Kurt, his heart exploding with tiny little fireworks because Kurt was jumping up and down and cheering_ just for him_-

Then out of nowhere Finn slung an arm around Blaine's shoulders, knocking him right out of his thoughts. Finn pointed to Kurt, Carole and Burt in the stands, the football still clutched in his fingers. From the stands Blaine watched with a sinking stomach as they all pointed back to Finn and cheered.

The first thought that went through Blaine's mind was, _oh well, it was a good fantasy. _Then the second one was, _oh shit, Kurt probably saw me waving to him like an idiot..._

Before Blaine could contemplate how similar his life was to a Taylor Swift song, the team came sprinting towards them and threw themselves at Finn and Blaine. It was so loud that Blaine couldn't hear himself think, but that was okay.

As the boys clapped their large hands on Blaine's back and helmet, congratulating him on tackling that humongous guy, ("_How did you do that, he was three times the size of you!") _Blaine looked back over him shoulder and spotted Kurt, who was still excitedly cheering.

Blaine's vision was a little shaky because the team wouldn't stop thumping his helmet, but Blaine kept his eyes trained on Kurt. He knew that Kurt was cheering for Finn, because Finn was his step brother and had just won the winning touchdown but Blaine could ignore that for now.

He could ignore that.

Blaine turned around and helped the team dogpile Finn to the ground. It was okay, because when Blaine closed his eyes, all he could hear was the cheers of the crowd and in his mind, Kurt was staring straight at him, his eyes lit with excitement and happiness as he cheered for Blaine.

OOOOOOOOOO

However, Blaine's excitement about winning the football game was shortlived. He had spent the entire Saturday doing his homework, which left his Sunday completely free for him to mentally punch himself in the face for that _stupid _wave directed at Kurt. Honestly, why didn't Blaine just wear a large neon pink sign on his forehead with the word _gay _on it?

Lockers slammed shut loudly all around Blaine, and with each resounding _slam _Blaine felt his headache get a little bit worse. Didn't the guys know that no words should ever be spoken on a Monday?

The guys around him were having conversations that could easily be spoken in a calm, inside voice, but apparently what they had to say had to be projected through the locker room so that people all the way in China could hear. Blaine gritted his teeth and continued pulling the sweaty football pads of his shoulders, then his knees and calves. Blaine tried to ignore the arrogant conversations around him, but it was sort of hard when they were being pretty much shoved into his head.

"-dude, and then she was all 'oh, I'm waiting for marriage' or whatever, but then she like, sends me pictures of her boobs two hours later-"

"Tease!" said one boy, and then,"What a bitch! Who is this?"

"Marta," said Liam, a offense player who like Puck, really got around when it came to the ladies.

"Dude, at least you don't have chicks sending you love letters and shit," piped up Sam, a newer student to the team and school. He was tall, blonde and handsome and kind of nerdy. The first time Blaine saw him, he was reminded immediately of James, but once he got to know him better, Blaine really liked Sam.

(He may have actually been hoping that Sam would be gay. But then he started dating Quinn Fabray, and Blaine pretended not to care. It's not like he really liked Sam or anything.)

The whole ignoring Sam thing became a lot easier when he tried to take Finn's position as quarterback. As a duty of being Finn's best friend, Blaine had to hate Sam for that.

"Yeah, I got this weird note in my locker the other day, and it was this chick talking about how much she loves me and wants to get married someday."

All the guys turned to Sam and threw towels and jeers at him, "aw! She's probably some weirdo chick who stalks you!" Sam caught some of the towels and threw them back at the crowd of guys around him, "whatever, at least I have girls after me unlike some people!"

Blaine took this as his cue to leave, forcing the last of his gear into the locker and shutting it quickly. He pushed himself through the guys, pausing to say goodbye to Finn, who was having issues getting his shoes off. "Later, dude." Then Blaine leaned down towards Finn and added quietly, "I'll come over later tonight and help you with that Biology stuff, alright?"

Finn smiled, "thanks man, you're a lifesaver. See you later."

Blaine nodded and said goodbye to the rest of the team, sending a wave over his head and a "later guys!"

As Blaine walked down the hallway, he trailed a single finger along the lockers beside him, smiling a little at the funny squeaky noise the metal made under his fingertip. He vaguely noted the numbers as he passed each one. _250...251...252...253...254...256._

Blaine stopped. _256. _This was Kurt's locker. He knew this number very well, because the other night Blaine had fallen asleep with this number written on his palm, and the next morning he woke up with Kurt's locker number rubbed into his cheek. He remembered frantically scrubbing it off, trying not to think about how creepy he was.

Blaine cast a look down the hallway to his left and right, making sure there was no one else in the hallway with him.

He reached up and turned the lock between his fingers slowly, feeling each _tick _of the lock under his finger tip. Staring at the locker, Blaine was reminded of what Sam had been telling the team just moments before, _I got this weird note in my locker the other day... _

Blaine pulled his hand from the lock and placed in on the strap of his backpack instead, and continued down the hallway. That was kind of weird, leaving a note in someones locker, and Sam said he still didn't know who she was, and yet she had spilled all of her deepest secrets and feelings on a piece of paper.

What if Blaine wrote Kurt a note, and just left it in his locker? Kurt would never know it was Blaine; he could tell Kurt everything that he had been feeling and just get it off his chest. It would feel so good.

_No, _Blaine told himself. He was not going to do that; it was a stupid idea. What if in some weird twist of events Kurt found out it was him? Then what would happen? Blaine preferred not to go into what would happen if Blaine's secrets got out to the whole school. Well, some of the consequences that played out in Blaine's mind were a _bit _of an overreaction, but still.

Instead of dwelling on that idea, Blaine started his car's engine and started the drive home, distracting himself with all the homework he had to get done, and what he had to bring over to Finn's house later that night.

But no matter how hard he tried, Blaine couldn't help his mind from going into dangerous grounds. He thought that maybe Kurt would think the notes were romantic, and maybe he would like Blaine back. It was a nice thought, but just _no._

_No. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow! You guys are so awesome! I read each and every one of your reviews and they always make me smile :3 **

**And something else to make you all happy: I will most likely be posting a chapter a day, they might not be as long as I would like, but I feel like this works better! **

**Enjoyyy!**

Blaine walked down the checkered floors of McKinley, his head miles away from the school.

Everything was just so _fucked up. _All of Blaine's friends didn't know him. They all knew Blaine, the slightly shy football player who was just average, but they didn't know _Blaine, _the gay football player who loved academics, romantic comedies and loved his family more than anything, and maybe sung in the shower.

Everywhere Blaine looked he saw a friend, they would meet his eye and wave a little and Blaine would return it, wondering to himself, _if they knew I was gay, would they still wave at me? Would they even acknowledge my existence?_ Blaine knew that he was probably being a little dramatic, but he truly felt that no one knew him. He had never felt so alone.

Blaine just wanted to be liked for who he actually _was, _not the person he had worked so hard to create the past four years. Everything Blaine said was a lie. It was all a lie. All these people laughing and talking with their friends, sending Blaine friendly waves as they passed by, Blaine knew would, if they knew the truth, would whisper behind their hands, saying "_that's Blaine Anderson, he used to be on the football team, but he quit because everyone found out that he was gay."_

But of course that didn't happen, that _wouldn't_ happen, Blaine would make sure of it. He had excuses for everything he was asked.

"_Hey Blaine, can you hang out with out this weekend?"_

"_Sorry no, I got grounded from my grade in English."_

_Lie_. Blaine had actually spent that Friday night sitting in the living room with his parents and his little sister curled up to his side, watching a horrible romantic comedy on ABC Family involving talking dogs.

"_Hey Blaine, we're having a party tonight, you need to come! All the cheerleaders will be there.."_

"_Oh, seriously, tonight? Dude, you suck! I got football practice at the rec center, than I got to get my college letters in."_

_Lie_. Blaine had no such practice and he had gotten his college letters written months in advance. The truth was, Blaine was terrified of girls; he was always afraid that they could tell he was gay with one look. But of course-

"Hey Blaine."

Blaine looked to his left and saw Ellie. Ellie was a little bit taller than Blaine, with long brown hair and long legs, accentuated by the short skirt of the Cheerios uniform. She grabbed Blaine's arm lightly and steered him to the side of the hallway.

She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and looked at Blaine with a small smile played on her lips, shiny with lip gloss. "There's a party tonight. I was wondering if you would like to go with me.." Ellie leaned in closer to Blaine, and her hand that had still been resting loosely around Blaine's arm slipped down to his fingers.

Blaine quickly drew his hand away and wrapped his fingers around the strap of his backpack, a habit of his. He put his usual _oh-darn_ face on and began to shoot her down. "I'm really sorry, I would love to go with you, but I have so much homework tonight and..." He shrugged and her and muttered again, "I'm sorry."

But Ellie didn't give up that easily, she was one of those girls who always got what they wanted. And right now, she wanted Blaine. "Oh, come on! It'll be fun," Ellie's persistent hand found it's way to Blaine's chest and then slipped a finger through the strap of his backpack, trying to pull him in closer.

"I'll make it worth your while," she whispered, staring up through her eyelashes in a manner way too seductive for a high school girl. Blaine cast a terrified look at her and then her hand, (which was tightening it's grip on Blaine's backpack) wondering how much offense she would take if Blaine just took of running and screaming down the hallway.

But Blaine figured that wouldn't go over well, so he very politely removed her hand. "It sounds great, but I really can't."

"Oh, really?" Ellie was starting to sound annoyed now, because Blaine wasn't comprehending the meaning behind her words. "Let me spell it out for you, Blaine. You go to the party, and you get to fuck me, 'kay?"

"Uh.." _Oh. _Blaine could not stop the shocked expression that came over his face. He knew that Ellie was a bit of a slut, but it was a bit unnerving to hear that actually come out of her mouth. Where was her self-respect? He felt the urge to give her parents a quick call and tell them what had just come out of their daughters mouth, but he figured that Ellie would appreciate that even less than him running away. "I appreciate the offer, Ellie, but-"

Ellie raised her eyebrows.

"-I really do, but the thing is, I don't really know you all that well, and well I sort of have my eye on somebody. So, maybe I'll take a rain-check on that, okay?" Blaine flashed her a smile and turned to leave, quite relieved that he had gotten out of that situation in one piece. He also hoped that Ellie wasn't going to follow up on that rain check.

Ellie Martin was left standing alone, shocked. She had never been rejected before in her life. _Ever. _And when she was close to getting shot down, the whole "I'll let you fuck me" thing worked like a charm. Casting glares at the snickering students who had overheard the conversation, Ellie flipped her hair over her shoulder and stalked off, her head held high.

Blaine walked into his Math class and took his seat. On the board in the teachers handwriting was _Pop __Quiz! _and Blaine smiled, he was totally going to ace this.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine's good mood caused by the Pop Quiz had popped like a bubble as soon as he walked into History class and saw Finn sitting in his seat, his face indicating that he clearly meant business. Never a good sign.

Luckily, their teacher stood up at the front of the classroom, hushing everybody. Finn reluctantly got up out of Blaine's seat, but he gave Blaine a look saying "_we will talk."_

A half an hour later, a packet was passed out and people started pairing off, so naturally Finn scooted his desk towards Blaine and didn't waste any time before he started questioning Blaine.

"You shot _Ellie Martin _down?" Finn asked incredulously. A few people sitting in surrounding desks looked up interestedly, and Blaine hushed Finn. The last thing he needed was a gossiper or someone finding out that he shot down what was, apparently, the hottest girl in school.

"Yes," said Blaine impatiently, "now write the answer down, I found it for you in the packet." Blaine pushed the packet towards Finn, "I even high-lighted it for you." But Finn ignored the packet, finding Blaine's strange actions more interesting than the War of 1812.

"She's like, the hottest girl in school, dude. What the hell?"

Blaine just shrugged and once again nudged the packet at Finn, who still ignored it. With a huff, Blaine snatched the packet away from Finn and began writing the answers himself. Blaine felt a flush climbing up his neck, and a little voice in the back of his head was whispering, _just tell him._

"There's nothing to it, Finn. She offered me sex, and I said no."

Finn continued to stare at Blaine, quite confused. "I got that part. But why did you say no again to the hottest girl in the entire school?"

Getting annoyed, Blaine dotted an 'I' with more force than necessary and turned to face Finn. "_Because, _Finn. I'm not really into slutty girls, okay?"

_Finn, I'm not into girls at all. _

Finn held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay, man. I just don't really get it. Most guys would kill for a chance at Ellie..."

"Yeah, well. I'm not most guys." Blaine mumbled.

Thankfully, Finn stayed quiet while Blaine tried to finish the packet. But the silence just made it worse for the thought's going through his head. Even when Blaine was trying to focus on who were the main British generals in the War of 1812 all he could think about was how Finn was his best friend, why couldn't he tell him the truth? Finn had stuck through Blaine through some hard times and vice-versa; they have been best friends since the first day of their freshman year. They were attached at the hip, but Blaine had never felt more disconnected from Finn than he did now. But he still owed Finn the truth.

It could be so easy. All Blaine had to do was nudge Finn's arm to get his attention, and say two little words. _I'm gay. _And that would be it. Finn would accept him, Blaine knew that, but there was still something keeping Blaine from doing that.

Blaine was just, plain and simple, ashamed. He was ashamed that he could never be out-and-proud like Kurt. Kurt at least stood up for himself, however, if it were Blaine being pushed into lockers everyday, he probably would have gone home crying to his mother.

But at the same time, Blaine had to tell somebody. He wanted the whole school to know, he wanted to scream it from the rooftop, so the entire student body could hear. But the overwhelming fear of what he knew would happen kept him from doing that.

Sure the guys on the football team were some of his best friends now, but would they be if they knew Blaine was gay? Even after Kurt won a football game for them sophomore year, Kurt was still bullied terribly by all the guys; there was no escaping it.

It was confusing. Blaine really had no idea what he wanted, so, once again, Blaine came to the same conclusion as he always did: no one could know he was gay. He figured it was best to keep this little detail of his life to himself.

It's not like he didn't have anyone in his life that he trusted, it's just, what if, on the off-chance, they didn't accept him? What then? What if they accidentally let Blaine's secret slip? Blaine couldn't let that happen, he wouldn't.

The safest way to keep a secret is to, well, keep it secret.

OOOOOOOOOO

A sharp _clang _echoed through the corridor and Blaine jumped a bit, looking around for the source of the sound. The sound had brought him back two years, when he had heard that noise every day, it was the sound of a body being thrown against the lockers. Most likely Kurt's body.

Predictably, two boys clad in letterman jackets hurried by, clapping Blaine on the shoulder as they passed. "'Sup, Blaine?" and then, "See you, lady!" They hurried off before a teacher came (not like the teacher would have done anything to punish them) and congratulated themselves with a high-five

Blaine gave them a weak smile and once they were gone he immediately turned to Kurt, who was already brushing the invisible dirt of with a delicate hand, looking indifferent to the fact that he had just been viciously pushed into the lockers.

For a brief moment Kurt caught Blaine's eye. Kurt sort of raised his eyebrows at him, as if saying "_well, what did you expect?" _And then Blaine blinked and Kurt had disappeared and he was left standing alone in a crowded hallway.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine stared down at the lined piece of paper. Nervously looking around at the students around him, making sure they weren't paying attention to what he was doing.

It was blank, ready to be filled with all of Blaine's secrets and innermost thoughts.

That would be shared with Kurt.

And what if Kurt showed other people? What if Kurt showed the whole school? What if Kurt figured out who he was? What if it got on Ben Israel's blog?

Blaine shuddered.

This could be a really bad idea, Blaine reasoned, but what was life without a little bit of risk, right? Or at least, all the movies said that, and they usually turned out good, right?

Blaine took a deep breath and started writing.

OOOOOOOOOO

Well.

Here he was, standing in a deserted hallway at 3:24 on a Wednesday afternoon. Blaine had purposely run slow laps on the track outside until every student had gone home so there was no chance that anybody would see him slip the note into Kurt's locker.

A door opened and shut in the distance and Blaine must have jumped a foot into the air. With his heart beating fast and feeling desperate, Blaine shoved the folded piece of notebook paper through the cracks of Kurt's locker and almost sprinted away from the scene of the crime.

Blaine quickly pushed through the front doors of the school, squinting a bit when the bright sunlight hit his face. He could feel his palms sweating and he shakily wiped them on his jeans.

It was the anticipation that was getting him. What was going to happen? Was Kurt going to be freaked out? So freaked out that he tells everybody and rumours will start about the _other_ gay kid at school?

Even though Blaine knew that Kurt would never do something as cruel as that, Blaine's imagination was going wild with the consequences, good or bad, and there was no stopping it.

Blaine drove the twenty minute ride back to his house in a daze. He was so unfocused he blew a stop sign, cut three people off, and came to a complete stop right in front of a green light. On the steering wheel Blaine's fingers could not stay still, they kept tapping some erratic beat. He kept reaching down to the dash and changing the radio station; he just couldn't keep still.

As soon as Blaine reached his house he went immediately to his room. He threw his backpack down in in it's usual place by the door and flopped himself face down on the bed. His dog sensed his gloomy mood and jumped up beside him and started to lick his face, sighing in content when Blaine's hand reached up to scratch behind his ears.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Kurt, _

_ I know this is kind of creepy, me sending you a love letter and all, But please don't throw this Away yet. At least make it till the end of the page,then you can decide whether or not to burn this piece of paper. The only other request I have is that you not show this to anyone. It's not that I'm ashamed- actually, I am ashamed. I'm so ashamed that I can't be out and proud just like you are. Sometimes I wish I was just like you, so comfortable in your own skin and not worry about what anyone else thinks. But then I remember how hard I worked to create this image of this person that isn't really me, its only the more socially acceptable half of me. It's so comfortable where I am right now, if only a little suffocating. _

_ I know it's also a little bit cowardly to write you this note instead of saying this to your face, but I know I would never be able to say this to you. Not that I don't want to, its that I guess I'm not brave enough. So I'm sorry, this is as close as I can get to talking to you. Don't worry, I'm not going to send you creepy things I would like to do to you or anything, I don't even know if I'll send another one. I guess it depends on whether you seemed creeped out or flattered by this note. But, I do think you're a pretty awesome person._

_ -I would sign this your secret admirer but I feel that's too cliché and I don't want to write my initials. So I'll just sign it like this._

_P.S. That blue shirt you wore today looked really great. I'm not going to pretend to be some super guy who knows his fashion labels like you do, but I know enough to know that it really made your eyes look nice._


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine had spent yesterdays entire afternoon mentally preparing himself for the next school day.

He really didn't know what he was expecting to happen. The sensible part of his brain told him that the only difference with the school would be Kurt, but the crazy part of his brain was picturing the sky falling and Kurt announcing from the school speakers that he had received a love letter yesterday and he had a strong suspicion that it was written by the schools cornerback, the one and only Blaine Anderson.

But nothing happened.

Blaine arrived in first period, immediately glancing around the room for any shift in the dynamic. But the only thing out of the ordinary was the fact that they had a sub. A few people looked up from where they were either doing work or talking to friends and gave Blaine a quick wave.

There no dirty looks or mean whispers.

Feeling relieved, Blaine settled down into his seat. His secret was safe.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Fate really seemed to be on Blaine's side today. Just by walking in the hallway Blaine saw Kurt a total of four times. _Four. _And two of those times Kurt was walking in front of him, giving Blaine a chance to stare. It made him feel sort of creepy yes, but Blaine had already sent the guy a love letter, like, how much creepier can you get?

Also Kurt had a smile. It wasn't a huge, cheesy grin but it was a _smile. _Blaine saw it and immediately dubbed it his own special smile, because the smile was so small if you weren't looking for it (Blaine was _searching_ for it) you wouldn't even notice it.

Blaine was positively giddy. Kurt had obviously read the note and wasn't freaked out in the least by it, and from what it looked like, Kurt had respected Blaine's wishes and kept Blaine's letter, or well, Kurt didn't know it was Blaine, but the letter was secret.

Other than the smile, it seemed as if Kurt went on with his day as usual. He went to his locker, ate lunch, sat two rows and three seats down from Blaine in Economics.

Blaine was so elated by all of this, that on his way to study hall he had already had his note to Kurt written out in his head. It had felt so good to write down all his feelings about Kurt on a piece of paper, although, slightly terrifying, but mostly good.

But then Blaine saw Kurt for the fourth time that day. He had been walking down the same hallway as before, and at the exact same spot as yesterday, Blaine head the sharp _crack _of a body hitting the lockers, the same boys on the football team greeted Blaine with a clap on the shoulder and they were gone. They had met their goal, hurt the defenseless kid for no reason at all.

Blaine figured he could tear apart the personalities of the football players in head later, right now, he wanted to make sure Kurt was okay. When Blaine could finally catch of glimpse of Kurt through a gap of students, Kurt had his eyes closed.

Usually Kurt would brush his shoulders off and continue on his day, maybe an angry mumble about how much his outfit cost, but the guys had never gotten a worthwhile reaction from Kurt. But right now Kurt was leaned against the lockers, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed in pain or maybe Kurt wanted to cry, Blaine didn't know.

Kurt opened his eyes. He looked right in Blaine's direction, and he felt his face flush at being caught staring _yet again, _but Kurt didn't seem to see him. Unlike before, Kurt didn't give him a special look, he didn't even notice Blaine.

But what had Blaine expected? It's not like Blaine gave Kurt a reason to notice him.

OOOOOOOOOO

The letter that Blaine had written inside his head had been tossed aside. Kurt's face after he had been shoved in the locker had sparked something inside Blaine. The letter that Blaine had written before now seemed petty and frivolous.

Did Kurt want little notes saying how cute he was? Probably not. Blaine thought that maybe he should add more to it. Make his notes deeper and more meaningful. Being the only out gay kid at the school was obviously taking a toll on Kurt, and Blaine thought that maybe he should tell Kurt about his past. To show him that he's not the only kid going through this.

_Should I tell him about James? _Blaine pondered while he tapped a pencil eraser against his chin. He had never told anyone about what had happened that day, and he tried not to think about it. (Blaine still got mini-heart attacks every time he sees a guy with shaggy blonde hair).

Blaine decided against writing about James. It just seemed too...depressing? Blaine wanted to show Kurt that he wasn't the only kid who was different; that Blaine had gone through similar trials.

Papers shifted all around Blaine, and he turned his body so that he was covering his paper. It didn't have any writing on it, but still.

So, Blaine put a pen (he didn't use pencils that way he couldn't erase anything) to the paper and wrote his letter to Kurt.

OOOOOOOOOO

That night, Blaine was quite nervous to go to Finn's house. On the drive there, Blaine couldn't stop thinking that maybe Kurt did know and _oh my god _what if he told Finn? Because then Finn might tell the football team, and then the school would know and maybe his parents would find out and then his whole pathetic life would probably be front page news on the local newspaper, and then the state newpapers, and then national news-

Blaine shook his head, a little disturbed at his imagination.

With his mind still playing strange and impossible scenarios, Blaine rang the doorbell to the Hummel-Hudson residence. A few moments the door swung open to reveal Kurt.

"Oh. Hey Blaine,"

_Hi Kurt, I wrote a love letter to you, and I maybe think about you at night with my hand down my pants._

"Blaine, are you okay?"

Blaine shook his head, "yeah, yeah. I'm fine," he cleared his throat awkwardly, then wished that he would just drop dead or have a piano fall on his face because he could _not_ be a functioning human being in front of Kurt. "I'm here for Finn."

Kurt gave Blaine this _look, _as if he wasn't sure if he should check Blaine's temperature or just laugh at him. Thank god Kurt chose neither of these and stepped aside to let Blaine into the house. "Right, I figured that one, Blaine."

"Right."

Seriously, a falling piano would be nice right about now.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine walked into Finn's room with bothering to knock. Finn had been lounging on his bed, playing with his phone and he looked up happily when he saw Blaine. "What's up, man?" Finn pushed himself off the bed and walked over to Blaine, grabbing his hand and pulling Blaine in for what he called the "bro hug."

"Nothing, I brought the history homework so we can start on that. And you told me you had more Biology homework.

"_ugh," _Finn groaned, flopping back down on his bed, making the mattress springs creak under his weight. "I hate homework, why do we have to do this?"

Blaine merely sat down beside Finn and crossed his legs. He was quite used to Finn saying this everytime Blaine came over to help with homework, which was often. Blaine didn't usually like to brag, but he was pretty smart. And he knew for a fact Finn wouldn't be pulling a B+ in Biology if it wasn't for him.

It wasn't like Blaine was conceited about his intelligence and good grades, it's just that it was the only thing Blaine felt proud of in his life. He was a average football player, an average singer, and an average, well, everything else. But if there was one thing that wasn't average about Blaine, it was his GPA.

Which was a 4.36.

"Because," Blaine responded, he felt like a broken record. "You need to do your homework-"

"to get good grades and be successful in life, _yeah, _yeah, I _know." _Finn finished for him. "You sound like my mother."

Blaine took Finn's text book and smacked him in the shoulder with it, "_ouch!"_

Finn shot a wounded look at Blaine and picked up his backpack from the floor to get his homework. Blaine smiled to himself as he heard Finn mutter under his breath, "_I hate you, I hate you..."_

OOOOOOOOOO

A painstakingly slow hour full of Biology problems later, they had finally finished Finn's homework. So now they sat in front of Finn's television, blowing out zombie brains. It was actually a great stress reliever, Blaine found out.

"Dude, _dude, _oh my god, _it's coming right towards us, Finn! _Where are you?" Blaine was yelling frantically, his hands waving the controller around attempting to save his characters life, who already had only twenty percent health.

"I don't know! This like, freaking _teleporter_ showed up! I don't know where I am!"

Blaine sent a quick look over to Finn, "what are you talking about! Finn, your guy is _right there! _Now help me before I die!"

"OH! There I am!"

They were both caught in the middle of the another vicious and bloodthirsty swarm of zombies when the door to Finn's bedroom door open.

"Hey, Finn," Kurt peeked his head through the door, his hair all mussed up and sticking out in all directions.

_Sex hair, _was the first thought to pop into Blaine's head. Blaine openly stared at Kurt as he told Finn something about his parents. All he could see was the way Kurt's mouth moved when he talked and _wow _how he smiled. It was all small teeth and pretty pink lips and-

Wait, where did Kurt go?

"Dude! What the hell?" Finn exclaimed. Kurt had shut the door and Finn had turned around to the television screen to see both Blaine and his characters dead. "You were supposed to be making sure we didn't die! We are never going to be able to finish this level." Finn said, frustrated.

"Sorry, man," Blaine said, watching as Finn made his way through the game menu, restarting the level. "Oh, and you can stay for dinner if you would like, we're having pizza."

Blaine nodded absentmindedly, "yeah, sure, that sound's good, thanks."

OOOOOOOOOO

Dinner was a little bit awkward for Blaine.

Not for everyone else though, just for Blaine. Every single time Kurt even gave a half a second glance to Blaine, he felt as if he was under a spotlight and Kurt could read every thought that went through Blaine's mind.

It was awesome pizza too.

Blaine had stayed quiet for most of the dinner, only speaking when he was directly spoken to and spending most of his time trying to find excuses to look over at Kurt, who was eating a healthy green salad while every one was digging into greasy pizza.

Blaine stayed a little bit after dinner, offering to help Finn and Kurt clear the table.

At about eight, Blaine announced that he should probably hit the road, since they had school tomorrow and he still had some stuff that he needed to finish up.

"All right, see you man," said Finn, coming over to grab Blaine's hand and pull him in for a "bro hug."

From beside them they heard a scoff. They both turned to Kurt, "what?" asked Finn.

Kurt just shook his head, "oh nothing, it's just that handshake thing you do is absolutely ridiculous."

Blaine and Finn just looked at each other. What was ridiculous about it?

"What are you talking about? It's like, the _man hug," _Finn explained wisely. Kurt raised one eyebrow and shook his head, clearly not convinced by the power of the man hug.

And then Blaine let the part of his brain that labeled things "socially acceptable" and "not socially acceptable" shut down completely. For some reason, Blaine found himself walking over to Kurt and offering his hand. Kurt just stared at his hand, "really, Blaine? No."

"What? Come on you can't just leave me hanging, dude." Blaine said, then immediately regretted it, wondering if it sounded too flirty or something.

Kurt scoffed again and took Blaine's offered hand and pulled Blaine close.

It was probably one of the best moments of Blaine's life. Even though it was about two seconds of his life, Blaine really felt as if nothing could ever compare to the feeling of holding Kurt that close to him. Because Kurt's sweater was soft, his hands were soft, and Blaine sincerely hoped that his hands weren't sweaty or something mortifying, and Kurt smelled good and it brushed against Blaine's cheek briefly.

Kurt was laughing, and so was Finn, after the "bro hug."

"Yeah, I feel so _manly _now," Kurt joked, and Finn looking at him, "well duh! That was the point."

Blaine tried to laugh along with them and tried not to pretend that he hadn't just expierenced a life-changing encounter with Kurt. Well, a life changing encounter for Blaine; Kurt probably thought Blaine was strange and weird.

Finn said bye to Blaine once again, and he was out the door.

Blaine sort of wanted to scream and shout and jump on his car and then scream some more because he had _touched _Kurt and everything in his life was irrelevant because Kurt still smelled like lavender, vanilla and cinnamon and his hands were just as soft as Blaine dreamed they were.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear Kurt, _

_ I promise you won't get any more letters like the one I'm writing now But I was just thinking About this and I couldn't get it off my mind and it's not like I can tell anybody. So, I'm going to tell you a sad little story about strange thing's that happened to me. _

_ Once upon there was a little boy who had my name. He was perfectly normal little boy who just happened to like looking at boys. Anyway, I seriously thought it was normal. Like, in my mind I honestly thought that other boys looked at other boys like I did. I had no idea, it was quite sad really, that I was that naïve, and sometimes I want to punch myself in the face. But anyways, I got older, and (and oh my god, please tell me this happened to you too) one moment boys were just boys and then all of the sudden they got super hot, and you just didn't know what to do. Because all the boys were looking at girls and I was caught in the middle asking myself, "what's so attractive about girls? What's wrong with me?" Middle school, freshman year and sophomore year of high were so traumatizing for me. Apparently, liking romantic movies meant you were gay. Wearing nice clothes meant you were gay. Neat handwriting made you gay. Caring about school and family made you gay. Being nice to teachers made you gay. _

_ So those years I learned that everything about me was gay. _

_ So I changed. I bought new clothes, watched action movies, went shopping and got a new wardrobe, I didn't tell my friends when I was having a family night and I did my homework not in secret, but I didn't bust out my advanced class homework at the lunch table like I used to. _

_ And so here I am. Senior year of high school, so far in the closet that I expect so see Mr. Tumnus anyday now. It's really pathetic. _

_ I honestly would give everything to be like you. To not care what other people think, because you're so sure of yourself. I guess this is the part where I say "I love you," or whatever, but I don't want to scare you off or anything._

_ -I think you're amazing and I really, really like you._


	8. Chapter 8

**I was loving the once-a-day updates more than you guys,**_** sigh**_**. But, I apologize, as I was given a cold, hard serving of life over the past week. Between a paper that determined by graduation and getting sick, it was not a good week.**

**I had felt myself getting sick earlier, but I decided that the best way to deal with it was to power through it. Which wasn't the brightest idea I have had. So, now I am laying in my bed feeling very pathetic and terrible.**

**But my being sick is wonderful for you guys! Now I pretty much have enough energy to sit in bed and write this story! Yay! ;)**

**I love all of you guys, and once again apologize for disappearing off the face of the earth. I love all you guys and thanks for the favorites/reviews ! :)**

**OH, and some of the parts in this might be a little confusing without the note Blaine writes to Kurt, but I will get that posted ASAP and everything will be clear! Enjoyyy:)**

Kurt kicked the door to Blaine's bedroom shut with a sharp _slam _that echoed through Blaine's empty house.

Blaine felt himself pushed back up against the door, a pair of soft lips latching themselves onto his neck. He closed his eyes as Kurt's body heat covered his body and he blindly ran his hands up and down Kurt's torso, pulling Kurt's shirt out from where it had been tucked in his pants.

"_God," _Blaine moaned as Kurt nipped tiny bites down his neck, then, when he became hindered by Blaine's shirt, he pulled back, much to Blaine's dismay, and yanked his t-shirt over his head.

Kurt pulled the now-shirtless Blaine by the hand over to the bed, where he was pushed down onto his back by Kurt's hand. Blaine's legs were pushed open wide, and Kurt stepped between them. Kurt leaned down to Blaine's level and pressed a kiss, to his nose, cheeks, and finally his lips, while simultaneously trailing a finger up Blaine's thigh. Blaine felt his head getting lighter and lighter when _finally _Kurt's finger's reached Blaine's crotch, adding more pressure as Blaine's hips thrusted up sharply to meet Kurt's hand.

Blaine watched in awe as Kurt slowly unbuttoned his shirt, who was watching Blaine with half lidded eyes. He pulled his shirt over his smooth shoulders, leaning forward once more to capture Blaine's lips in a kiss. Blaine reached a hand out and traced his fingertips down Kurt's chest, smiling against his lips as tiny goosebumps popped up Kurt's skin.

He heard the clink of Kurt's belt as it was loosened and then the zipper of Kurt's pants, and all Blaine could think was _oh god the pant's he's taking them off._ With eyes squeeze tightly shut, Blaine tangled his fingers in Kurt's hair, pulling him closer, while Kurt continued working on getting off those tight, tight pants that Blaine loved so much.

With pants now discarded to the floor, Blaine crawled back onto the bed, pulling Kurt with him. They collapsed with Kurt on top of Blaine, who was already rocking his hips against Kurt's who was not returning the favor, much to Blaine's dismay.

Kurt calmly kissed him, sliding a tongue inside of Blaine's mouth. In a brief fit of passion, because Kurt's _tongue_ was in his _mouth, _Blaine removed his hands from Kurt's hips and hurriedly tried to unbutton his own pants, kicking them off his ankles as fast as he could.

His hands bravely slip through Kurt's boxer briefs, cupping his hands over Kurt's ass, pushing his hips down onto his own.

"_Kurt," _Blaine panted out, pushing Kurt's briefs down over his hips, his fingers shaking uncontrollably as they met Kurt's naked skin underneath.

"_Kurt, _I've wanted this so bad," Blaine threaded his fingers through Kurt's hair again, tugging slightly as Kurt rocked his hips against Blaine's in a steady rhythm. Kurt kissed down Blaine's neck and onto his chest, swiping his tongue against Blaine's nipple. "I saw you watching me," Kurt said, without meeting his eyes.

Kurt slipped down Blaine's boxers, leaving them both naked, with Kurt on top and Blaine underneath.

"_God," _Blaine moaned, spreading his legs as far as he could, his palms pressed in Kurt's back, trying get Kurt closer. "_Kurt, _I love you," Blaine said, between quick and short breaths, he rocked his hips up against Kurt's feeling bursts of pleasure explode up and down his spine, his toes curling.

"I think I love you," Blaine said again, and Kurt detached himself from Blaine's chest to place a hard kiss on Blaine's lips, "I saw you watching me," he said.

Blaine closed his eyes as once again Kurt's lips made their way down his neck, arching his back at the pleasure.

"_I saw you watching me," _Kurt said again, and Blaine nodded, his eyes still closed. When he felt Kurt's lips meet his own before going back to his neck, they felt different they felt cold. But Blaine soon forgot as Kurt's hand wandered south, and Blaine felt as if all the oxygen from the room had gone as Kurt's hand wrapped itself around his dick. "_Kurt."_

"I saw you watching me."

Blaine opened his eyes, the voice sounded different. It sounded deeper. Blaine watched in horror as James' eyes met his own, a horrible smile on his lips. Blaine yelled and tried to push James off of him, but James' kept Blaine pushed down against the bed easily with one hand. He leaned down and kissed Blaine forcibly with his cold lips-

Blaine sat up quickly, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He closed his eyes and immediately regretted it, as the dream was still fresh in his mind. The sheets were tangled around his legs and the comforter had been pushed completely off the bed.

He fell back onto his pillows, wiping his sweaty brow with his arm. He looked at the clock, and it was five thirty in the morning. Groaning, Blaine rubbed his face with cold hands, knowing that he was not going to get any more sleep tonight.

OOOOOOOO

Blaine did his best to push that weird, _disturbing_ dream that he had to the back of his mind.

It really made him feel dirty. He rarely felt _dirty _after he had those kinds of dreams about Kurt (which he had more often that he would like to admit) although he always felt immensely guilty. But it was easy to cast off those dreams about Kurt, because, one, have you seen those pants he's always wearing? and, two, it was natural, right? All teenage boys had those dreams.

But Blaine just mostly blames it on the pants. Those damn pants.

It usually took Blaine about five minutes to appease his conscious with excuses of those dreams being natural, and he was obviously into Kurt, but Blaine had just felt so _dirty_ this time. He felt guilty, for letting James creep into his subconscious and ruin his dream version of Kurt. He felt angry, because to him, Kurt had been spoiled; he felt angry at himself for_ letting_ Kurt get associated with someone as disgusting as James.

Blaine had spent twice as long in the shower that morning, scrubbing and scrubbing at his skin trying to get the dirt of him. Trying to get _James_ off him, and it didn't work.

He had climbed out of the shower feeling just as unclean as he did when he stepped in.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Finn had talking about nothing but sectionals for weeks and Blaine seriously just wanted this stupid choir thing to be _over _with because it was driving him nuts. Blaine's patience with this had been stretched to the breaking-point, and Blaine was thrilled that the event was tonight, and he wouldn't have to hear another _word _about show choir until Regionals came up.

Every single conversation they had consisted of "set list" this or "choreography" that, and not to mention, the horrendously unsubtle hints that Finn snuck in there about him wanting Blaine to join New Directions.

Blaine knew that he would end up going tonight, both for Finn and Kurt. He had promised Finn that he would go, and he intended on keeping that promise. He had gone every year ever since Finn had joined that club back in sophomore year.

Between trying to not punch Finn in the face for being absolutely _annoying _and not telling Finn that "_oh yeah, I have wet dreams about your brother and he may have turned into the main antagonist in the story of my traumatic, yet very pathetic, life while he had his hand down my pants. I also write love letters to him_," it was very stressful.

Blaine couldn't wait until study hall, until he could start writing his note to Kurt. Blaine had trouble concentrating in his classes that day, his mind kept drifting off to what he was going to write to Kurt that day. He had already thought about trying to write a letter once a day, but then he decided that was too risky.

What if he was sick or absent and he couldn't get his note to Kurt that day? Surely if it happened often enough, Kurt would be able to line up Blaine's absences with the arrival of the notes.

So Blaine decided that maybe he would write a Kurt whenever he had one written. But then again, so far that had been everyday. _Whatever, _Blaine thought, _Kurt doesn't pay attention to when I'm here or __not. _

Blaine never really considered Kurt not caring about his presence to be a good thing, but it sure was now.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Blaine had craned his neck the whole day, trying to catch a glimpse of Kurt. He had been hoping and even praying that that small _smile_ he had seen on Kurt's lips was still there, and that he wasn't afraid of someone stalking him.

Maybe Kurt thought the letter were romantic? Or sweet? Or just downright creepy, but still slightly flattering? Or maybe Kurt had gotten an A on a test? Blaine would probably never know what exactly that smile had meant, and before, Blaine had told himself that he didn't care; he still had dreams and fantasies, right?

But now, not knowing bothered Blaine. He wanted to know just what Kurt was feeling about these letters, because he knew that just dreams weren't going to satisfy him anymore. What lazy and sweet daydreams in class used to consist of were now just Blaine trying to focus on the teacher talk about things he already knew, because if he thought about Kurt, he would think about James. Which was something Blaine tried to avoid at all costs.

Despite keeping a watchful eye on the population of McKinley High, trying to pick out the tall and sure strut of Kurt Hummel, Blaine didn't see him anywhere. It was disappointing, but Blaine did have a plan B, which he didn't like to actually carry out because it made him feel creepy.

But once again, Blaine reminded himself that he is a closeted, gay man writing love notes to the subject of his wet dreams. So, Blaine was pretty sure he had no shame left.

Blaine walked by Kurt's locker before heading to study hall, trying to catch a peek of Kurt's expression while not drawing attention to the fact that he was staring. Kurt had been innocently standing at his locker, and there wasn't a smile on his face, but there was something else that caught Blaine's attention and pleased him.

Kurt seemed to be looking for something. He was taking every single piece of notebook paper laying on the bottom of his locker and unfolding them, reading the contents and then throwing them back in. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he closed his locker and walked off, looking very dissatisfied.

_What if he was looking for a new note? _Blaine thought excitedly, _had he been that pleased about them? _

Choosing to believe that Kurt was looking for the notes, Blaine headed off to study hall with a new spring in his step.

OOOOOOOOOO

That night drove over to Finn's house, prepared to sit through a whole two hours of show choir competition. Blaine really, _really _did not want to go, for many reasons, but being Finn's best friend, he really did have no choice. This really was something near and dear to Finn's heart. So Blaine grudgingly rang the doorbell to the Hummel-Hudson residence, greeting Carole when she opened the door.

"Hey, Blaine! Come on in. Finn and Kurt are getting ready upstairs, we're going to leave in a few minutes."

Carole stepped aside to let Blaine into the house, which was in total chaos. As soon as Blaine stepped through the door, a very frustrated looking Finn raced past him, frantically yelling, "_where is my bow tie?"_

Past Finn was Kurt, who was staring into the hall mirror, armed with a full can of hairspray. Kurt misted the spray over and over onto his hair, but a single strand kept falling down into his eyes. Letting out an frustrated growl, he shoved the offending piece of hair back into his place, spraying even more spray on it.

"_Dad!" _Kurt yelled, shaking the can of hairspray.

From the kitchen came Burt, who was wearing a dress shirt and black pants, and Blaine wondered if he was under dressed, in his dark jeans and sweater. "What, Kurt?" He called, sending a look at Kurt in front of the mirror before rolling his eyes.

"This _stupid _piece of hair will not _stay!" _Kurt answered back irritably. Burt came over to stand behind the mirror, putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "You look great, kid. Now lets go before we're late," he pulled Kurt away from the mirror.

"No!" Kurt exclaimed, reaching back to grab his can of hairspray, "my hair will never stay! While I'm performing my hair will-"

"Look great," Burt finished for him, still guiding Kurt by his shoulder out the door and to the car. As they passed Blaine, Burt looked back and told Blaine to go ahead and get in the car, Carole would grab Finn and they would be off.

Blaine eagerly followed them out to the SUV, watching as Kurt carefully climbed into the back, probably not wanting to get his clothes all wrinkly.

Trying at least not to look so eager, Blaine climbed into the back seat after Kurt, maybe sitting himself down a little bit closer to Kurt than normal, but Kurt would notice. Much to Blaine's amusement, Kurt had now taken out a tiny hand mirror and was still trying to push back that piece of hair with even more hairspray. Blaine was sure Kurt's hair would be a helmet after he was finished.

It was just Blaine and Kurt in the car, as Burt had gone back inside to make sure Finn found the missing bowtie.

"Stupid, _stupid _hair," Kurt mumbled, pinching the strands back to his scalp in attempt to make them stay.

"Stop," Blaine said, leaning forward in his seat so he could face Kurt. "Just leave it down, it looks like Link." Right after he said this Blaine wanted to smack himself in the face. Why not just hand Kurt a freaking pamphlet about his gayness?

Kurt looked at him, confused. "Link? Link-from _Hairspray?" _Kurt asked incredulously, and Blaine ducked his head and blushed. "Shut _up, _my little sister likes to watch it, she thinks Zac Efron is cute." _And I do too, Zac Efron is so hot in that movie. So I may have even watched it without my little sister around. _

"Okay, it just- you don't really seem like the type to watch musicals. With Zac Efron in it." Kurt said, very amused at how flustered Blaine had become in the past five seconds.

"Yeah, shut up," Blaine said, "but seriously, if you leave it down, it looks just like him." Before Blaine could stop his hand, (it really seemed as if Blaine could not control his extremities around Kurt, which could really become a problem) he reached out and pinched the piece of hair between his fingers and twirled it, so it lay in a slight curl against Kurt's forehead. "There," he said.

Kurt brought up the hand mirror to inspect his reflection and nodded approvingly. "It looks alright, I guess. Thanks." Then, mostly to himself, Kurt muttered, "_and now I'm taking hair advice from a football player, what else is going to happen?_"

Before Blaine could respond to that, Finn jumped into the back seat next to him, tying a bow tie around his neck. "Found it," he said, smiling, to Blaine.

Burt and Carole climbed into the front seats. "Everybody ready? Have we got the two performers?" She called, looking over the head rest at the three boys stuffed into the back seat. "Alright, let's go!"

The car ride to the hall where Sectionals was being held was full of questions asked by Carole to the boys, to which all were answers with groans from the boys. Carole knew exactly how to embarrass all of her three boys.

First it was about Finn's girlfriend Rachel, and what they were planning on doing for their month anniversary, and how was Blaine doing with the homework help? She asked about the grades, football, and everything else imaginable and, really, didn't Carole have conversations with Finn everyday?

"_Mom, _you know this stuff, stop asking me!"

Carole sighed, _"fine." _She looked over her shoulder at Blaine, "I guess I will have to interrogate Blaine instead."

Blaine groaned and leaned his head back onto the seat. "_No, _Mrs. Hudson!"

Carole launched into questions about everything, and most of his answers were the same as Finn's, how were the grades, his parents, football, and then, inevitably-

"So, do you have a girlfriend yet?"

Kurt sniggered as Finn leaned forward and shoved his mothers seat, _"mother, _you are so creepy! Stop!"

Blaine laughed and shook his head, "no, I don't."

Thankfully, Carole launched her next question at Kurt, who, contrary to Blaine and Finn, seemed to love talking to Carole, and they started what seemed to be a deep and meaningful conversation about scarves and boots.

"-yeah, I'm going to wear this scarf tomorrow, I think the blue shirt." Kurt said, a small smile playing at his lips. He looked down into his lap and stared at his fingers.

Blaine immediately looked up at Kurt, before averting his eyes, not wanting Kurt to know that he was interested in Kurt's fashion choice of the next day.

"Oh, but why don't you wear the white coat we got at the mall the other day!" Carole asked.

But Kurt shook his head, "no, I really have to wear the blue shirt and scarf tomorrow, it's just. I have a good feeling about wearing it tomorrow."

From behind the wheel Burt laughed, and Carole just nodded her head understandingly, "if the outfit speaks to you, wear it."

For the rest of the car ride, Blaine could hardly sit still. He tried to keep his happiness from showing on his face, although he really just wanted to jump up and down for joy and then maybe throw a few victory punches. But someone could get really injured the small space of the SUV, so Blaine sat still, humming a happy tune.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine, Burt, and Carole said goodbye to Kurt and Finn at the door, Blaine and the parents headed towards the auditorium while they headed backstage.

Blaine followed slightly behind Burt and Carole as they chose seats towards the middle, where they sat down and waited for the curtain to rise. Programs were handed through the aisles, and Blaine idly flipped through it, his mind still on Kurt's outfit of choice.

The lights finally dimmed, two other groups before the New Directions performed. They were pretty good, from what Blaine heard, they really had nothing on the soloists of the New Directions.

Finally, the announcer announced the New Directions, and Blaine clapped with everybody else as the group filed on stage. Much to Blaine's surprise, Quinn, a member of the Cheerios, started the ballad, entering the auditorium from a curtain in the back.

Everyone turned in their seats to watch Sam and Quinn sing to each other across the aisles. After getting over his surprise at the solo, Blaine found himself quite enjoying the performance. He never really thought as Quinn or Sam as soloists, but Blaine thought they were doing a wonderful job.

After that song ended, another song started. It was upbeat, and Blaine saw Santana push her way to the front, singing "Valerie." Around her Brittany, another Cheerio, and Mike Chang, a fellow football player, were doing impressive flips and twirls around her.

Although everyone's eyes were on the dancers, Blaine followed Kurt throughout the song, watching with a smile on his face as Kurt danced around on stage and looked _happy. _But in a closer study, Blaine noticed that when he wasn't dancing around, Kurt's eyes were darting throughout the auditorium, squinting to see through the bright lights shining on him. He was looking for someone.

The audience jumped to their feet at the conclusion of the song, and Blaine was not surprised at all when the New Directions were given the first place trophy.

The lights turned on and the audience shuffled out, eager to meet their children out in the hall. They found Kurt and Finn, very easily, due to Finns height, but before Blaine could meet them, Burt pulled on his arm and led him a few paces away.

"Mr. Hummel?"

Burt looked down at Blaine, who was immediately intimidated, and in a brief moment of insanity, he thought Burt was going to kick his ass for writing love notes to his son.

"Blaine, I know you don't know me very well, but I have to ask you. It's about Kurt," Burt said, finally letting go of Blaine's arm and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Blaine shook his head, not fully understanding, "talk to me about Kurt?"

"Yeah," Burt shook his head, "I know you guys aren't the best of friends or whatever, but I can't get anything out of Finn or Kurt. The damn kids won't tell me anything." In response to Blaine's alarmed look, he added, "I'm not asking you to snitch on everything they do at school, but it's mainly about Kurt's safety. Have you noticed anything? Is he still being bullied? I know those kids at school liked to throw him in dumpsters and shit like that, but he said they've stopped, have they really?"

Pictures of Kurt being pushed into the lockers twice and cold, icy slushies being thrown in his face flashed through Blaine's mind. Blaine could either straight up lie to a protective father who just wanted his son to be safe, or he could tell the truth and possibly get Finn in trouble for not standing up for Kurt at school, which Blaine knew had been a problem before.

Blaine shook his head, "well, I mean, I've seen him get pushed into lockers a few times, and a few slushies, but I haven't seen anything, well-" Blaine was going to say _harmful, _but getting pushed into lockers and having cold drinks thrown in your face was, well, harmful.

Burt nodded his head understandingly, "I figured. You know, I just worry about the kid. Anyway, thanks for telling me." Blaine just nodded dumbly, not really sure what had just happened, him and Burt had never really had a one-on-one conversation like that.

Blaine walked back over to Kurt and Finn, who had wide smiles on their face, "we won!" Finn exclaimed as soon as he saw Blaine.

"I know! Dude, good job, you guys were awesome!" Blaine reached forward and slid his palm through Finn's hand, tugging him in for a hug. Over Finn's shoulder he caught a look of Kurt's amused expression.

Finn led the way to the car, holding his arms up in the air and kept yelling in victory, leaving everyone else to trail behind him, looking very embarrassed on Finn's behalf.


	9. Chapter 9

_Dear Kurt,_

_ Okay, so I saw you today and you weren't looking over your shoulder like you were looking for a murderer or something so I'm just going to take that as a positive thing and keep writing you these notes. If they bother you or something, just like, I don't know wear a green shirt. Or maybe if you do like them, wear blue and like, a scarf tomorrow? Hopefully you do this, it will make me feel less like a creeper. Or actually make me more like one, haha. _

_ Oh well. There is actually a point to a letter this time! I'm going to come see New Directions at sectionals! I'm so excited to see all the hard work you, and your team, have done. Don't try looking for me though, I'll probably be that weirdo guy hiding in the shadowy corner with his hood up. I just wanted to wish you good luck! _

_ I don't really have anything other to tell you, so no more sob stories about my sad, pathetic life this time. I apologize for this quite Boring letter, maybe tomorrow I will tell you Another sob story._

_ -Once again I will just sign this letter like I always do. Like this._

_P.S. I do recommend wearing looser pants. They sort of look like they might cut off circulation. Or maybe you just shouldn't wear pants at all. Wow, that was creepy. I promise I'm not the janitor._


	10. Chapter 10

**Finally! Here it is!**

**And I have some good news for all of us! I have gotten a beta- so no more cringing at all the little grammar and spelling mistakes I make way to often! So a HUGE thank you to ikot-ikot, who has taken on the task of listening to my weird ideas and editing chapters:)**

**Ikot-Ikot had made a small comment in a review that I should get a beta to catch some small mistakes I had, and will make in the future. So I pretty much made them be my beta:) See, I really do read the reviews, so be careful what you guys write, because I will make you do stuff for me (muahha) like poor ikot-ikot ;) **

**Oh gosh, now none of you are going to review lol. Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I loved writing it!**

Blaine was woken up bright and early by the rude beeping of his alarm clock. Without even bothering opening his eyes, Blaine threw an arm out and just barely managed to hit the snooze button, effectively silencing the device. He burrowed further down in his warm sheets, closing his eyes and trying to recapture the wonderful dream he had been having before he was interrupted. But just as Kurt's face and soft hands reappeared, the _stupid _alarm clock went off again with its obnoxious beeping.

Knowing he had to get up sometime, Blaine opened his eyes, still heavy with sleep, and looked around his room blearily. The bright red letters on his alarm clock said was six thirty in the morning, which Blaine concluded was way too early for any decent human being to be awake.

He pushed the warm, soft bed sheets off him and winced as the cold air hit him. He kicked the sheets to the edge of the bed, crossing his arms to keep himself warm as he made his way to the bathroom.

Through the corner of his eye he saw the leaves outside his window on the tree outside had started to turn. He smiled faintly to himself, as autumn was his favorite season. He loved the cool breezes and orange, red and yellow blends of leaves falling from the trees and twirling through the air. It was his season.

Although he definitely wasn't a fan of having cold toes in the morning.

After taking a long warm shower and dragging a comb coated with gel on it through his thick and curly hair, many times, he made his way downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with a cup of coffee in her hands, with his little sister, who was eating a bowl of cereal, chatting away happily to her mother.

"Bye, mom." Blaine reached over the seat next to his sister and picked up his backpack. On his way out, he ruffled Milly's hair, laughing as she screeched and swatted away his hands. "_Mom, _Blaine messed up my hair!"

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine stepped out of his car and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air as he pulled his letterman jacket around him. Students all around him were also climbing out of their cars, pulling on jackets and retrieving their backpacks from the back seats.

In a blue convertible a few parking places away, Blaine saw Ellie step out of her car. Today her dark hair was pulled into a strict ponytail, with a cute curl on the end, and Blaine wondered how her legs didn't freeze off because of the short Cheerios skirt she was wearing. He always thought it was really quite rude of Coach Sylvester not allow the girls to wear pants, even in the winter. They had letterman jackets like the football players, like the one Blaine had on right now, but that didn't do much for frozen knees and toes.

In an attempt to be nice, Blaine caught Ellie's eye and threw her a quick smile. Not to his surprise, Ellie completely ignored him, still obviously sore over being rejected by him a couple of weeks ago. Pretending she didn't see him, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and picked up her bag, stalking off towards the school with her head held high and her hair swinging after her.

_Oh, well, _thought Blaine, _I'd rather be ignored than have her spread rumors._

When he walked through the door, he saw Kurt's face immediately. Like, right in front of him. Over and over again.

However, Blaine's enthusiasm was quickly stifled when it turned out to be just a poster. _A very strange poster, _Blaine realized as he neared the pink and blue flier. It had Kurt's face on it, with what seemed to be a unicorn horn on his forehead, with a slogan printed across the top. Something about magic.

Blaine was very confused for a second, because one, these posters didn't seem like Kurt had made them; while he was very flamboyant and unashamed to show his homosexuality, Kurt also didn't go around with a unicorn horn on his head and a rainbow flag as a cape. And two, why would Kurt be making posters in the first place?

Then it hit him, _Senior class president elections–duh. _Who knew that Kurt was interested in school leadership? Well, Blaine learned something new every day.

Blaine reluctantly pulled himself away from the poster and didn't read the rest, as he felt that he shouldn't be standing in front of Kurt Hummel's campaign poster.

Walking through the crowded halls, Blaine soon spotted the real Kurt Hummel, completely free of unicorn horns. He was standing next to Rachel Berry, a petite brunette, handing out what seemed to be pins. The closer he got, he realized that Rachel's pink top had a slight green tinge to the front of it. How on earth had they been slushied so early in the morning? Blaine felt relieved when Kurt seemed to be just fine and slushie-free.

Blaine felt a wide smile edge its way onto his face as he caught sight of the outfit Kurt had put together. Kurt was wearing the blue shirt and scarf just like he had said he would last night, _just like he said. _Blaine wanted to jump up and down for joy, maybe yell to the entire hallway that Kurt was wearing a _blue _shirt and a _scarf!_

But that might have given away that Blaine had been writing those letters to Kurt, so instead he pushed his way past people and strolled into the bathroom, a definite spring in his step. He quickly walked into the last stall and locked the door behind him. He leaned up against the door, closed his eyes and just smiled. A huge, toothy grin that sent happy shivers through his body.

There was no one in the bathroom, from the sound of it, so Blaine allowed himself a silent but very enthusiastic celebratory dance, because this was a momentous occasion for him. He pumped his arm in the air and kicked his leg, narrowly missing the toilet seat. Then he leaned back up against the door, looking up at the ceiling. The off-white plaster had never looked so beautiful.. When he felt like he had gotten the overwhelming excitement out of his system – well, most of it anyway, Blaine sighed one last time and left the stall.

_There really is a God,_ thought Blaine as he unlocked the door. Upon opening the door he locked eyes with a freshman by the sinks. The boy was quite a bit shorter than Blaine – which was saying something, because Blaine wasn't the tallest guy – and looked absolutely terrified. The poor boy probably thought Blaine was crazy, but didn't dare say anything because Blaine was wearing his letterman jacket, and as his celebration in the bathroom stall was pretty unorthodox.

But that was okay, Blaine didn't care if the whole damn school thought he was crazy because Kurt was wearing a _blue _shirt and a _scarf._

Blaine smiled at the boy on the way out, who just watched silently with wide eyes, the sink still running behind him.

Kurt and Rachel were still attempting to pass out buttons when Blaine left the bathroom. For some reason, Blaine started to feel a little self-conscious and wished he had checked his hair in the mirror on his way out the bathroom. He ran a hand over his head, making sure the curls were still locked in place.

He tried to control his smile at Kurt as he neared, "Hi, Kurt—"

"What do you want?" Rachel cut in, stepping in front of Kurt like a bodyguard, holding the bucket of pins protectively to her side. Despite her small frame, Rachel looked ready to take whatever Blaine threw at them, both literally and figuratively.

Her eyes flickered between his red football jacket and to his hands, probably making sure he didn't have a cold, iced drink hidden behind his back. Now that he was closer, Blaine could see her eyes were red and irritated, probably a side effect of having corn syrup in a cup thrown in your face.

Blaine held up his hands to show that they were empty and he came in peace. "It's all good," he assured her, then turned to address Kurt. "I didn't know you were running for president, Kurt."

Once again, Rachel pushed in. "I'm one of his campaign managers," she said, flipping her dark brown hair over her shoulder. "And if you knew what was right for the school, you would vote Kurt Hummel." The brunette quickly grabbed a pin from the bucket and shoved it at him. Kurt looked amused and gave Blaine a look that plainly said, "_I'm sorry she's so crazy."_

Thrilled to get any attention at all from Kurt, Blaine shook his head and tried to shrug nonchalantly.

"You know, if you wore that around, you could get a lot of votes for Kurt," Rachel stated.

More people passed by them and Rachel attempted at making them take a button too, but most people either gave her an amused smile or completely ignored her.

Before Blaine could use a damn filter for his mouth, he said, "Yeah, right. If I wore that, more like I would get beat up and tossed in the dumpster."

_Oh my god what is wrong with me?_

Right after he said it, Blaine wanted to punch himself in the face. Really, really hard. Or maybe the piano-falling-out-of-the-sky thing would have been great right now. He opened his mouth to stutter out a lame apology (why did he have to ruin _everything_?), but Kurt cut across him. "Kurt, I—"

"No one said you had to wear it," Kurt snapped, reaching his hand out for the button Rachel had given Blaine, who held the pin a little bit too protectively against his chest. Kurt gave him a look that gave a new meaning to the saying _"if looks could kill_," and then reached more to snatch it from Blaine.

"It was just a suggestion." He looked hurt as he threw the pin back into the full bucket.

Blaine thought about apologizing and asking for a pin, but he knew he wouldn't wear it; although he would like to have it just to have it, but that's not really something he could tell Kurt. Taking one last look at the scarf tied around Kurt's neck, Blaine bolted out of there, feeling totally humiliated and annoyed at himself. _Why can't I be a normal human being? _Blaine asked himself.

His happy mood now almost completely deflated, Blaine settled in his seat in his first class of the day. He had gotten there early and was the only student in the class, except for a quiet sophomore, who was asleep with her head down in the back of the classroom.

He groaned as he remembered the look on Kurt's face. He had looked so _hurt, _and when Kurt looked sad, he resembled a poor, mistreated kitten, which made Blaine feel even worse. Who hurts a kitten?

Terrible people, that's who.

OOOOOOOOOO

During lunch, the football players made their way to the locker room. It was nearing the end of the season, and the team was getting pretty desperate to rake up wins so that they could possibly make it to states.

States didn't seem likely at this point, but that didn't stop the boys from trying. There were many seniors on the team- and they all wanted this year to be something to remember.

So during lunch, the team crowded around the small television while Coach Beiste used a ruler to point out various plays that they would be learning tomorrow at practice. Most of the plays being perfectly moved by professional football teams looked pretty complicated, and the boys kept giving each other apprehensive looks. How on earth were they going to learn these complicated moves in so little time?

Blaine had tried to pay attention to the screen, but his thoughts kept drifting off to Kurt and what he said to him earlier, and what exactly he was going to write in a letter to Kurt today. He knew that he was going to tell Kurt that he most definitely had his vote for the Senior Class Elections, but he didn't want to be too obvious.

The sensible part of him told him that maybe he should wait a couple of days before the next letter, but the other half wanted the instant gratification and adrenaline rush of delivering the letter that day.

Making a compromise with himself, he decided that he would write a letter to Kurt today, but he wouldn't make it so blatantly obvious that he had found out that Kurt was running today. Maybe make it seem like he had seen the posters before?

_Hmm, _Blaine was still captured in his thoughts, though he made sure to look up at the screen every once in a while, so it at least looked like he was paying attention. He sincerely hoped that none of these plays had anything to do with him.

Telling Kurt that he had known that he was running for President would be a flat out lie, and also weird, because Blaine was pretty sure that Kurt had only put up the posters today, so unless Blaine wanted to sound like he was some psychic weirdo- there was really no way to avoid that one. But saying that he had just found out that Kurt was running for president wouldn't be that much of a give-away, seeing that the whole school had found out at the same time.

Happy at himself for his reasoning, Blaine leaned back in his chair. There was no way for Kurt to find out who was writing the letter as long as he made it vague enough, Kurt would never know the difference.

Coach Beiste clapped her hands together and turned off the television and faced the team, "I hope you guys learned a lot from these videos. We start learning and training these tomorrow— be here at two thirty sharp, anybody even a minute late will run laps. Lots of laps."

Grinning at the collective groan of the team, Coach left the room and walked into her office, leaving the team to collect their bags and wait for the bell to ring.

A slam of the locker-room door announced the arrival of Rick "The Stick," a tall and burly hockey player, who Blaine had learned earlier that day, was also running for Senior Class President.

Blaine was already feeling defensive as he knew that whatever this guy had to say, it would probably not be very good things. And it turned out he was right.

Rick had gotten the attention of the boys by standing up on the chair Coach Beist had been sitting on moments before, and immediately announced why he was there.

"What's up, guys! You all know I'm running for that President thing, and we all know I'm going to win, because I'm awesome- and because I'm up against the dumb blonde and the other lady, that Kurt fag-"

There was a thud, and the team all watched as Mike, Sam, Puck, and Finn all left the room- clearly and silently announcing that Rick did not have their votes.

Blaine felt his heart beat loudly in his chest as his brain worked at lightning speed, _should I stay? Should I go? Will they think that I like Kurt if I leave? What if they think I'm gay?_

But the four boys, all members of the Glee club, had already left- and Blaine would no doubt look very lame if he left now. Rick scoffed at the Glee boys' little protest, and some of the football players knocked each other's shoulder, yelling after the boys, "homos!"

"Anyway, so all you guys that don't want this school run by stupid chicks or flaming homos, I suggest you all vote for me." And apparently degrading his running mates worked for Rick, because some of the boys were already swearing they'd vote for him.

Some boys cheered and whooped for him, and some just shook their head. Blaine sat silently on the bench, trying to make himself disappear into thin air. He suddenly wanted to get the hell out of that room- but he found his feet wouldn't move.

Whether it was from rage from Rick calling Kurt a _flaming homo _or from fear that they would think that he was protesting Ricks campaign (which he really wanted to do), Blaine didn't know. But he just sat there, with his eyes staring straight forward, ignoring the boys around him.

A annoying little voice in that back of Blaine's head reminded him softly, _this is why we keep our little secret, Blaine._

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine arrived at Finn's house after school ended. They had plans to do nothing but play video games, eat, and catch the college football game later on that evening.

Usually Blaine would be quite content with this plan, but today, he was nervous getting out of his car. He had parked on the street, so he had a plain view of Finn and Kurt exiting the car they both drove to school in.

Behind sunglasses, Blaine watched as Kurt stepped regally out of the car, keeping his head high and very pointedly not looking at Blaine. The boy stalked off into the house, maybe shutting the door behind him with a little bit more force than necessary. Blaine sighed, Kurt was obviously mad at him for the comments earlier today. Blaine randomly wondered if Kurt had read the note Blaine left in his locker or if it was stuffed in his backpack, ready to be read in private.

It was like taking three steps forward and about, oh, twenty-four steps back. Everything was just going so _good. _Him and Kurt were on first name basis (maybe not at school yet, Blaine wasn't sure he was ready for that) and had actual conversations- _whole conversations- _when Blaine was over at they're house.

But _whatever, _Blaine tried to tell himself. _It's not like anything would happen anyway, what does it matter if Kurt thinks I'm a jackass?_

Then, _who am I kidding? This matters a lot. What if he finds out who is writing those notes and is disgusted?_

Trying to force an expression of indifference of his face, Blaine shut the car door behind him and walked up to Finn, who was staring at the door that Kurt just went through.

"Dude, he seemed pissed. Like, all day, I don't know what happened. I don't think he got slushied or anything." Finn reached into his car to grab his bag, he threw it over his shoulder and started walking to the house with Blaine close behind him. "He can be really moody sometimes, that kid. He's been less moody then he was but..."

"Yeah," Blaine said awkwardly, "that might have been my fault."

Finn stopped walking and turned around, looking at Blaine with furrowed eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

Shaking his head quickly, "No, I didn't like, throw slushies or anything, but he tried to give me this pin and I sort of told him that if I wore it, it would be social suicide, and I think he took it personally." Blaine shrugged and walked past Finn, leading them into the house. Even though Blaine made it seem like he really didn't care what Kurt thought of him, Blaine was still mentally beating himself up for not have a _stupid filter _for his _stupid mouth _because now Kurt thinks he's a jerk and of course Kurt took his little comment personally.

"Oh, well. He's sort of sensitive about the class president stuff. I mean, don't tell him-" Finn grabbed Blaine's arm to stop him from walking into the house. Keeping an eye and on the door and lowering his voice, Finn confessed, "-but I don't think he can win. I mean I'm totally voting for him, but I just don't think that he can beat Brittany. She's pretty popular and she did promise to go topless at least once."

Blaine nodded his head as if he thought that going Brittany going topless was of interest to him. Blaine would admit that Brittany was indeed attractive, and he would rather see her breasts, than say, Coach Sylvester's- but still, he _really _did not want to be subjected to a woman's bare chest in the school setting.

And Kurt was running— and Kurt would have his vote even if his plan was to replace all the food in the cafeteria with Blaine's least favorite food- jello. Hell, Kurt could set fire to the whole school and Blaine would still cast his ballot in favor of him.

"Yeah, she did. So she's got most, if not all, of the male population of McKinley voting for her."

"Well, I don't know. I guess we'll just have to wait and see, but I am worried about him.." Finn sighed and pushed the door open, tapering his voice just in case Kurt was close enough to hear him.

They set their stuff down in the kitchen, where Kurt was puttering around. As soon as Finn and Blaine entered the room, Kurt grabbed his stuff and left quickly. He didn't say anything or seem very angry, just _cold. _Usually Blaine got at least a _hello _out of Kurt, on luckier occasions, Kurt even went to hang out with them.

Finn gave Blaine as look as if to say, "_I told you," _and continued his quest for food. After pulling out a left over pizza from the refrigerator, Finn beckoned for his friend to follow him into the living room.

But Blaine wasn't paying attention, for he had spotted the bucket. The bucket that contained all of Kurt's campaign pins. And Blaine wanted one.

"Yeah, I'll meet you in there in a sec- I'm going to grab a drink and I think I left my phone in my bag." Blaine lied, wanting Finn to get out of the room.

"Alright man," Finn shrugged and left. A few seconds later Blaine heard the television turn on.

Blaine looked around the corner to make sure that Finn was indeed sitting on the couch, and that there was no chance of Finn seeing Blaine take a button.

He knew that maybe he was overreacting to the situation, because there was like, a zero chance that anyone would see him take a button- but it was always better to be safe than sorry, right?

Also, while explaining to Finn why he wanted one of Kurt's campaign buttons might be easily brushed off as he wanted to support Kurt- but that excuse would be useless as soon as Finn realized that Blaine wasn't wearing it. Explaining to Finn why he was taking a button in secret might be a little bit harder to explain, and would probably lead to a very awkward conversation between the two boys that Blaine was _really _not ready to have.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Blaine walked over to the table where the buttons are, picking one up carefully, as to not bump the tin buttons against each other. He quickly pocketed it, liking the feel of the cool metal through the cloth lining of his pocket. On his way to the living room, Blaine grabbed two drinks, figuring that it would be suspicious if he came back empty handed.

OOOOOOOOOO

Later that night when Blaine went to bed, he retrieved the small button from the front pocket of his jeans. He turned it over in his fingers a few times, studying the handsome picture of Kurt's face on the front. Then he climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over him.

Next to Blaine's bedside there was a small table with a single shelf on the bottom, a drawer and a just a plain wood surface on the top. There was a single lamp resting there, usually accompanied by a book Blaine was reading or his phone. The drawer below was full of random trinkets- usually of little to no money value, but full of sentimental value to Blaine.

Blaine pulled open the drawer and dropped the pin inside, covering it with a few papers to that it was hidden, just in case. He then turned off the lamp and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

**Survey time! Yay! Okay, sorry- but I do have a question for you guys, haha. Would anyone be interested at all in reading a sort of "deleted scenes" for this story? It won't be posted until **_**after**_** this story is complete, but I have saved some old chapters and excerpts that I had planned to go in the story but for one reason or another didn't make the cut. I had saved these just in case I did want to use them or to get my ideas right and stuff, and I wondered if you guys would like to see them. I don't know about you guys, but I am a whore for that kind of stuff- but that's just me and I'm kind of strange. So I guess just let me know:) **


	11. Chapter 11

__Dear Kurt,__

__ So, I noticed that you were wearing a blue shirt and scarf, (which looked really nice on you, by the way) and I'm going to hope that it wasn't a coincidence and keep writing you these letters. In my mind you totally swoon over them and stuff. Yeah, well if the creepy innuendos didn't put you off these letters, that probably did.__

__ Anyway, I saw you were running for class president. Just so you know, you totally have my vote. I never really thought of you as the school president – okay, that really came out totally wrong. I meant to say I never thought you would be interested in school politics. Anyway, enough of me being nosy, and once again you can count on my vote. You're definitely better for this school than Brittany; I mean, she's a sweet girl and everything, but a little bit air-headed – although she is quite interesting to talk to. And that Rick "The Stick" guy doesn't have a chance in hell against you; he's a douche. So rude, like the other day (oh, yeah. I'm going to apologize right now for not defending your honor, now I feel like the douche). Every single day I want to punch myself in the face because there is so much I want to say to those hockey-playing, puck-head losers but I'm so afraid they'll start rumors that I'm gay. They would be true rumors, but still.__

__ So I apologize. I really wanted to tell them that they are idiotic losers who are going nowhere in life. But anyway, they were just saying the usual, throwing around the word "fag" and stuff. Honestly, you would think they would have Better stuff to talk About. Not that you aren't interesting – trust me, you're my favorite conversation topic (wow, again with me being creepy, I need to work on that), but yeah. Long story short: I wanted to punch them but I didn't because I'm a huge coward.__

__ Story of my freaking life.__

__ -Well, this hasn't been the bright and cheery letter I had planned it being, but I guess I will finish with this: you looked so nice today it was ridiculous.__


	12. Chapter 12

They had lost.

They had lost the last football game of the season.

If you were to look on the bright side, at least they weren't crushed. The McKinley Titans had fought valiantly and just lost by a mere two points. For some, this close score was a relief, but to others, it made it even worse. It was so much worse, because they were _so close. _They were so close to victory they could practically taste it, but they had become cocky; letting their game slip in the third quarter and, in turn, their score.

Blaine removed his dirt-smeared gloves off his hands and rested his forehead on his palms. He was one of those people who found the close score worse, mocking even.

There was no chance of them making it to states, or even to the regional games. It was over.

__At least the four years were fun___, _Blaine told himself weakly, his eyes squeezed shut against his dirty palms. Might as well try to be optimistic right? However, Blaine couldn't help but let the overall gloomy and disappointed feeling that filled the room bring him back down into depression.

There were quiet murmurs from the boys who dared to talk. Most boys had their head down like Blaine, or were just staring straight ahead at the wall, patiently awaiting the return of their coach. Finn was sitting stock still, his football helmet resting on his knees, facing him. His head was resting on the smooth plastic of the helmet, as if he were trying to connect his mind to it.

As soon as the door creaked open the room fell silent and the air seemed to have become so thick that you could have cut the atmosphere of the room with a knife.

Coach Beiste stomped into the room and stopped right before the front row of benches, slowly moving her eyes down the rows to make eye contact with each and every one of them.

"Anderson. Marklin. Hudson. Head up." The three boys she named were seniors, who were obviously taking the embarrassing loss very hard.

Blaine flinched, as well as a few of his teammates, at the harsh, crisp tone of his Coach. Blaine snapped his head up, still leaning his elbows on his knees, but nonetheless making eye contact with his coach for a long moment.

A loud slam echoed throughout the room and Blaine closed his eyes once again, his head now throbbing with an ache he didn't know he had. Coach Beiste had thrown her clipboard down on the concrete floor; surprisingly, it didn't shatter. She looked furious – her face flushed and a furrow between her brow, but when she spoke she sounded quite calm and put together.

"Good game, guys. Shower and go home."

No one moved after she said this, expecting her to blow up at them, like she usually would.

The Coach looked at them all once more and turned on her heel. She went into her office, on her way she casually flipped an open metal locker door shut, sending another ear-shattering bang echoing throughout the room. The office door also shut loudly behind her.

Only after about three minutes did the team dare to move, slowly shuffling their feet and moving from the benches. The shower waters stuttered on and the curtains were drawn. Some team members stayed in their seat, turning to one other in confusion. This seemed like anticlimactic reaction for their coach to have after losing the last, and one of the most important, games of the season.

Blaine gradually picked himself up from the bench, clapping at Finn's shoulder, who gave no indication that he had even noticed him. He knew Finn would be the most put out about this loss, as he was the captain and this was also his last game.

Or, their last game.

The realization hit Blaine like a ton of bricks. He knew that he was a senior, he knew that this was the end of his high school career, and he most definitely was not coming back. But the full meaning of this never really sunk into Blaine until now.

He looked around the room at the other boys–most of them younger than Blaine. They had another year left, if not two, until they had to think for themselves. Until they had to go to college, pay bills and start a family–start a life.

It sort of sucks, growing up.

Blaine took one last look at Finn, who didn't seem to realize that Blaine was even there. The taller boy was staring at his shoes, his helmet held between his knees. He was either deep in thought or trying not to think at all.

Blaine went to his locker and grabbed his shower stuff, as he knew his family wouldn't appreciate it if he came out of the locker room after a game with no shower. The team could never really tell when they smelled bad, as they were completely used to the smell. The thought of this made Blaine smile, because as awful as the locker room stench was, he was going to miss it.

He was going to miss coming in after a hard practice and groaning with the other boys about how much it sucks and how they're never going to play football again, because this hurts. He might even miss coming in after a loss, and everyone is dead silent, not daring to say a word.

But what he was going to miss most was coming back into this small room after a win. The adrenaline from the game still coursing throughout his body, shouting and yelling and just making an obscene amount of noise with the team just because they won. The next day at school was the best, as everyone knew that they had won–and every student wanted to be the first person to highfive the members of the team.

Now, it was over. He wasn't a high school football player anymore, now he was going to have to be a college student, getting ready to begin his future. With a job, a family, and home.

A wife. A girlfriend.

__Or a husband.__

__A boyfriend.__

Blaine climbed into the shower, sighing as the warm water washed off the dirt and grime from his body, but the water might as well have been ice cold at the thoughts that ran through Blaine's mind.

That was a scary word.

__Boyfriend.__

OOOOOOOOOO

As the players filed out the door one by one, Coach Beiste was catching all the seniors as they walked past and shaking their hand. She congratulated them each personally, telling them they had a great season, and "good luck," in college or whatever they were planning on doing for the rest of their life.

Once Blaine had reached her, she stuck out her hand and shook his firmly, as she had done to the other seniors. Blaine nodded politely back, trying to smile, but it sort of came out as a grimace, and hopefully she didn't take it personally.

He waited past the door for Finn to exit too. Blaine heard Coach Beiste shake Finn's hand and say, "You've been a wonderful quarterback and captain this year, Finn."

The air outside was cold, colder than it should be for a fall night. The temperature felt like it was below freezing, and Blaine wouldn't be surprised if the water dripping from his still-wet hair turned into icicles.

Both Blaine and Finn's families were waiting together in the parking lot by the Anderson car, chatting while they waited for the two football players.

The adults were asking each other how beat up the boys will be at the loss. They would surely be in a bad mood, as this was their last game.

As they got closer, Mr. Anderson reached out an arm and put it around Blaine's shoulders, "There's the football players!"

Blaine shrugged, a grimace on his face. Mr. Anderson did not retract his arm, but gave a small squeeze, trying to give a little comfort to his son.

The adults tried starting a conversation with the boys about the game, but they really didn't seem to want to talk at all. Finn was staring down at the ground, a deep frown on his face. Across from him,

Blaine was trying to get subtle looks at Kurt, who seemed determined not to even glance his way. He kept his nose in the air, as though he could care less of his presence.

But Kurt's haughty attitude wasn't working out so well, because it was so cold outside that he was shivering, and his nose kept running and he had to sniffle and press his nose against his glove every once and awhile.

It was really endearing, and Blaine wanted nothing more than to drop his heavy football bag and wrap his arms around Kurt. He would let Kurt's cold hands into his jacket so that they could warm up, and he would kiss Kurt's lips and nose until they weren't red with cold anymore.

He tore his eyes away from Kurt. Those kinds of fantasies, or whatever, kind of hurt sometimes because there was honestly no way in hell they would ever come true.

"Well, he have to get back home," said Mr. Hummel. "I enjoyed seeing all of you. It has been a–" he paused, looking warily at Finn, "A wonderful football season." The rest of the adults murmured with agreement.

Mr. Hummel stuck out a hand for Blaine, and he shook it. "Good season," he said again.

"Thanks, Mr. Hummel. And Carole," said Blaine, stepping forward to give Carole a hug.

Behind him Finn was doing the same thing, shaking hands with Mr. Anderson and hugging Mrs. Anderson.

Milly had been falling asleep on her feet with her arms holding on to her father's. Mr. Anderson silently took Blaine's football bag and Milly sleepily walked towards Blaine, her arms outstretched. "You are way to old for this, kiddo," Blaine muttered, but either way, he still reached down and picked her up, carrying her bridal-style to the car.

He cast one last look over his shoulder at the Hudson-Hummel family, and for a moment he could have sworn that Kurt had been watching him.

OOOOOOOOOO

The ride back to the house was mostly silent, save for the quiet murmuring of the radio DJ in the background.

Blaine was staring out the window, watching the lights of the stores and houses flash by in a series of bright-colored blurs. As usual, his head was a thousand miles away.

He couldn't shake the thought that this was his last year in high school, and he had nothing to show for it. _Well, _he tried reasoning with himself, _I was on the football team, I had friends, a best friend, good grades._

If you looked at it from that angle, Blaine did have a successful high school career except–

__I've never been kissed.__

And that was a fact that Blaine would guard with his life.

No one knew that he had never kissed anyone, not even Finn. Blaine had always been terribly ashamed of this fact, as he felt like it made his less of a man, less of a teenager. He had never felt another pair of lips upon his own, unless dreams counted. He felt so inexperienced, like he was missing a huge chunk of his life, and it was keeping him from moving on.

Blaine would feel incomplete moving on to college–onto the rest of his life–without the knowledge of what it is like to be kissed. The part of him that hadn't been kissed would still be left in high school, alone and afraid the first day of freshman year, not knowing what to expect. Terrified, yet so, so excited at the same time.

The closest Blaine had ever come to being kissed was in the eighth grade. He had been at a party–the first party he had ever gone to where there were both boys and girls in attendance. It was a brand new concept, all the kids were excited–they felt like high schooler**s**–finally experiencing the adult world. In the beginning of the party, the girls were seated on the couch on one side of the room, while the boys were standing against the wall in the opposite side.

A boy named Jimmy Maline had then fearlessly stood up on the coffee table in front of the girls with a bottle in his hand, asking with no waver or embarrassment in his voice, "Who wants to play spin-the-bottle?"

The girls all blushed and looked at each other, shyly shrugging and nodding their head, not wanting to look too eager to play the childish game.

Blaine had remembered his blood running cold, his fingers all of the sudden shaky and clammy. He nervously wiped them against his pants as he watched a few boys push the coffee table out of the way so there was room for everybody to sit in a circle. Blaine watched the girls now taking a seat, his eyes wandering over each small face. He was going to have to kiss one of them.

He had taken a seat in between Jimmy and another boy he didn't really know, and waited anxiously for the bottle to be spun for the first time.

Blaine sat with his knees tucked under him, his hands splayed across his thighs. He almost felt as though he would be sick, his face felt hot and sticky, like he was running a fever.

Recently, Blaine had begun to have _thoughts. _Dangerous thoughts.

The boys around him were all looking excitedly at the young ladies, deciding in their head which one they would most like to kiss, and when they spun the bottle, wished fervently for the bottle's neck to point at them.

Three couples had kissed, much to the amusement of the rest of the group. Each time a kiss was shared, the rest of the children erupted into fits of giggles and jeers. But Blaine could not hear anything, let alone participate.

In the past five minutes, everything Blaine had thought he knew had been blown apart into tiny pieces. None of the boys seemed to want to kiss the other boys; in fact, once or twice, the bottle (spun by the boys) had landed on a fellow male, but they had just said, "That didn't count!" and spun it again and again until it finally pointed at a girl.

__Didn't the boys want to kiss the other boys?__Blaine asked himself, a sheer panic beginning to take over his mind.__I thought–__

What did he think? That boys were supposed to want to kiss each other? Blaine looked around the circle, _I could kiss some of them._

Before he knew it, it was Blaine's turn. He tried not to think about anything, just reached a shaky hand and spun the bottle, watching as it circled around the group, all the girls watching anxiously.

When it stopped, Blaine nervously looked up, and for a quick second, he thought the bottle had landed on another boy, who Blaine remembered as a strawberry blonde boy by the name of Cameron. But the girl next to him was being pushed by her friends, and she crawled to the middle of the circle, looking anywhere but Blaine's eyes.

Blaine, in turn, was pushed by the boys on his side. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest, so hard that it felt like it might break one of his ribs.

The girl's (whom Blaine couldn't remember the name of–Laura? Lizzie?) face kept getting closer, and Blaine couldn't believe that this was actually happening–that he was about to get his first kiss. As he started to see light freckles upon the girls nose and the rings of dark-green in her eyes, Blaine looked past her and saw Cameron staring intently.

It was so intense that Blaine's hand slipped slightly from where it had been resting on his knee, and he careened forward, completely missing the girls mouth and smacking a kiss about half an inch away from her mouth.

The group didn't seem to notice that there had been no mouth-to-mouth kiss, they were all cheering and pushing each other, yelling the names of the two embarrassed children in the middle of the circle.

Blaine had pulled away from the girl, who had a strange look on her face, her eyes wide open and her eyebrows raised. In a silent agreement, they both decided not to say anything, and just let the other kids believe that they kissed–it was embarrassing enough that they had missed the first time.

They both took their seats in the circle, looking at anything but each other. Blaine felt fuzzy, his head light and filled with air. When he looked up, he saw Cameron, his bright eyes that had been transfixed on him and the girl during the kiss now focused intently on the bottle.

__Had he been staring at me during the kiss? __Blaine asked himself, and he hoped the answer was yes.

Maybe Cameron wanted to kiss Blaine.__I wouldn't mind kissing him,__he thought a little sulkily–it probably would have been a better kiss than the one he had just had. And wait a second–Cameron had been watching that kiss closely, wouldn't he have noticed that Blaine and the gir**l missed** each other's lips by what seemed like a foot? Why didn't he say anything?

The hopeless romantic in Blaine's mind immediately set in, creating a elaborate scheme where Cameron so desperately wanted to be the first person to ever kiss Blaine. Just the idea made Blaine's head fuzzy and his heart thump madly.

But those dreams were thrown out the window as Cameron himself stepped up to spin the empty Sprite bottle. He spun it with a quick flick of his wrist, and Blaine wanted those fingers.

It spun and spun, and the girls were all watching intently, biting their lips. They also wanted the bottle to land on them, as Cameron was known as one of the hottest boys in school to the entire female population. And Blaine.

The bottle stopped and landed on the girl who Blaine had just had to kiss. She flushed a deep scarlet and buried her face in her hands, either completely mortified that the bottle had landed on her twice, or was sick with anticipation of the kiss from the boy.

Blaine felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of Cameron's face. He looked so eager, already inching towards the girl, a huge smile on his face. Blaine realized that he had not been staring at him at all, but at the girl Blaine had to kiss.

Blaine watched as the girl slowly lowered her hands from her face, and with cheers from her friends, leaned forward and kissed Cameron. This time it was dead on the lips, and when she pulled away, she was not flushed with embarrassment, as she had been with Blaine, but from happiness.

That night was collectively one of the most humiliating moments of Blaine's life. He had gotten home that night and locked himself in his room, burying himself under mountains of covers. He ignored his parents knocking at the door and, later, of his dog scratching and whining to be let in. He was too busy freaking out.

None of the boys wanted to kiss each other. So why did Blaine want to?

__Maybe they just wish it in private, like I do___. _Blaine told himself. It was true, he didn't go around telling people the list of boys he would like to kiss. So with ideas similar to these, Blaine successfully convinced himself that he was normal. He had to be.

Nowadays, Blaine was not so naïve. In fact, sometimes he couldn't believe how stupid he had been when he was younger. But at the tender age of fourteen, Blaine had been so desperate to fit in, to believe that he was normal. So desperate, that he convinced himself of a lot of things.

Blaine now knew that those boys had never thought of each other as Blaine had them. They had not secretly fantasized about abs and strong arms, but they were actually thinking of soft curves and long hair. Blaine knew now that he was different, and he would do anything to hide that fact. He didn't try to convince himself that everybody was like him, that his feelings were very common.

__I'm not that naïve anymore.__

The car shut off, and Blaine's parents started to climb out the car. Milly, who was still fast asleep, did not even stir. Blaine unbuckled his seat belt and gently shook her awake, and their father opened the

side door to carry her inside. "I'm getting too old for this," he heard his Dad say quietly.

Blaine took his time getting out the car. He felt sluggish, like the thoughts in his brain were weighing him down. __All the secrets you are keeping are weighing you down,__reminded the tiny voice inside his head.

He shook his head slightly, as if it would send the horrible memories and thoughts flying out of his head. He tried to not think of that girl and Cameron, who had dated after the party. Blaine remembered walking past them in the hallway while they hugged and, sometimes, dared a shy kiss. He remembered the sharp burn of jealousy whenever he caught sight of them. __He__ wanted to be in Camerons arms.

But now Blaine knew better than to become jealous. Why even bother?

He wasn't stupid anymore.

OOOOOOOOOO

Dinner was uneventful. Blaine didn't say much, which was unusual, but right now he really just didn't feel like talking.

But his little sister, Milly, seemed content to handle the conversation all by herself. She had been re-energized from the short nap she had gotten on the drive home from the football game, and was talking a mile a minute. Her parents obediently listened, with amused smiles on their faces. They responded as necessary, making sure they oohed and aah-ed in all the right places.

Blaine just pushed food around on his plate, not really all that hungry. He sat through dinner, occasionally looking up and smiling, so that Milly wouldn't feel bad that he wasn't listening at all.

After the dishes were cleared from the table, Blaine went upstairs to his room to retrieve his laptop. He came downstairs with it and set it on the now-clean table. He decided to knock out at least half of the essay questions he had to do for history. They weren't due for another week, but Blaine really needed a distraction right now.

Blaine had just started working when his father came into the kitchen. He rummaged through the pantry, looking for some tea and a mug.

"Watcha doing?" Blaine asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching, reaching his arms behind the chair and hooking his fingers over the back.

"Having some tea, you want some?"

"Yes, please. The raspberry kind," Blaine said, then added, "And mix it with the herbal stuff thing we got, then put some sugar it in." He shot his Dad a winning smile, who just stared back at his son with an emotionless face.

"Feeling demanding, aren't we?" He said, now with a smile on his face. He set about making the tea, filling two mugs with water and placing them in the microwave. He set the timer, and while he was waiting he turned back to Blaine.

"Why are you doing homework? It's Friday night! Doesn't the football team have some crazy party going on? Shouldn't you be getting wasted right now or something? You know, crazy teenager stuff?"

Blaine laughed, "No. No one really felt like celebrating after the loss tonight."

His father aah-ed, taking the mugs out of the microwave and dipping the tea bags into the mugs. He grabbed two spoons and walked over to the kitchen table and sat down next to Blaine.

"Well, I'm going to stay in here with you–there's only so much _Desperate Housewives_ or _Gilmore Girls_, or whatever they're watching in there, I can take."

Blaine grabbed his tea and wrapped his hands around it, feeling the warmth seep into this cold fingers. "I don't blame you," he said knowingly.

"What are you working on? Anything I can help with?" His Dad asked, pulling his glasses out of the front pocket of his shirt.

"What do you know about World War II?" Blaine asked, a smile on his face.

Mr. Anderson peered over his sons shoulder to look at the words typed onto the computer. "Absolutely nothing." He ruffled Blaine's curls, "I guess I'll just keep you company then."

He picked up the newspaper from where it had been sitting on the corner of the kitchen table, unfolding it and laying it across the table. The still-steaming tea was picked up and being held in the same fashion Blaine held his, with his fingers wrapped around the warm center.

The kitchen fell silent, the two men absorbed in their tasks. The only sound was the clicking of the keys of Blaine's laptop and the occasional rustle of the newspaper page being turned. From behind the closed kitchen door, the faint sounds of whatever his mother and sister were watching were filtering through, the fake laugh-track being the loudest sound.

"Did you ever look at that college up in New Jersey?" Mr. Anderson asked suddenly.

Blaine stopped typing and looked at his father warily, "You mean Princeton?"

"Yeah, whatever happened to that?"

"The tuition, remember?" Blaine scoffed.

"That was the problem your mother had with it," Mr. Anderson reminded him. He cast a look at the closed door of the kitchen, as if seeing if his wife would burst through. "You listen to me, Blaine. I will pay whatever it takes for you to go to whatever college you want. I don't care if I have to sell a car if it means you go to the best damn college in the world. I see you doing your homework every night–hell, it's a Friday night and you're writing a __book__on World War II." He took off his glasses and set them next to his tea.

"When I was your age I was all about partying. I did so bad in school, I almost didn't graduate. Now you, on the other hand, are a miracle. I was worried that you would make bad decisions like me, but you're different. Now don't get me wrong, you're mother believes in you too, but she's more frugal than me. Which is a good thing, but–"

The laugh track went off again from the television in the background. Mr. Anderson waited a second to gather his thoughts.

"I want you to do as well as you can. I can see you working for NASA or some other great financial bank, or hell, maybe even some big Congressional hotshot in Washington. I just want you to know that I believe in you."

Blaine nodded, dumbstruck. He knew his parents wanted him to go to a good college, but his father was offering to send to him the best college that he could get into, tuition be damned. It was almost too good to be true. They were giving him a chance to get away–to be able to learn exciting new things that couldn't possibly be explored in a slow-paced classroom in the suburbs of Ohio.

"Thanks Dad," was all Blaine could say. There were so many other things he wanted to say to express

his gratitude, but he couldn't find the words.

"And I'm proud of you," said Mr. Anderson, placing a large hand on Blaine's shoulder briefly before turning back to his newspaper. "Just keep the college thing in mind, Blaine." He paused before adding playfully, "Now do your homework."

Blaine laughed weakly and turned back to his laptop, which had locked itself from not being in use. He typed in his password with a numb brain, he couldn't think. His mind was doing all it could to process what his dad had just said to him.

"Thanks, Dad."

"No problem, champ."


	13. Chapter 13

__ Dear Kurt,__

__ I saw you at the football game last Friday, it was such a bummer that they lost. I sometimes feel bad for the team- they work real hard and sometimes it never pays off. I know you're step-brother, Finn, is on the team, and he's a really nice guy. I hope he's not taking it too hard.__

__ I guess in this letter I sort of wanted to talk about the future. Because it sort of just hit me, that we're seniors. We have to go out and start a meaningful life, support ourselves and be successful. And start a family.__

__ If I'm going to be perfectly honest, this is what scares me the most. I don't know what to do. Because I really want everybody to just know that I'm gay without me having to tell them- and not care, but I know that everyone will care. And I will have to tell my parents, my grandparents, my siblings, the neighbors and everyone will know. And they will talk about me. That's what bothers me the most. I don't care that I like boys, I just care that everyone else cares. I'm most afraid of what people will say about me when I'm not there.__

__ And my grandparents wouldn't even acknowledge my existence if they knew I was gay. Not to sound like a spoiled five year old, But I love my Grandma And I would rather die than have her hate me.__

__ I just don't understand how it's so easy for you to brush everyone off and just do what you want to. I don't get how you do it. It's truly amazing to me.__

__ This letter is getting whiny real fast—but I just really would like a boyfriend and I can't stand that the only thing stopping me from having this is myself. I'm pretty much my own worst enemy.__

__ -The guy who would really like to be your boyfriend but is too much of a jerk to actually do anything about it.__


	14. Chapter 14

The next week, something happened that really made Blaine want to punch himself in the face.

Well, not really. But it made him feel like the worst friend ever.

And it really seemed to be perfect timing, as Blaine was still beating himself up over how his father had given him the speech about how proud he was of his son. He felt as if someone was plotting against him, because he had never felt this way before.

He felt as if there was a thousand pounds of pressure on top of him, pushing him from every single direction, and there was no way to stop it- no way to push it off.

Anyway, the thing that Finn did that made Blaine feel horrible was that he had done exactly what Blaine hadn't the courage to do- tell his best friend the truth.

Finn had invited himself over after school one day, tailgating his friend the entire way home, as if he could not wait to get to Blaine's house. The whole time Blaine was watching Finn warily in the rear-view mirror, very aware of Finn's track record of rear-ending people, and on the rare occasion, running over the random mailman.

Blaine had parked the car in the driveway walked into his house, intent on getting some food. He had just opened the pantry and was browsing the items, when he was viciously ripped away from his delicious snack options by Finn and dragged up the stairs and into his own bedroom.

The door was slammed shut and locked, and Blaine was momentarily reminded of a dream he once had involving Kurt and slammed doors. He quickly shook that thought out of his mind—he was not going to get turned on while Finn was in the room. That was weird.

As soon as the door securely shut, Finn turned around to face Blaine, who had taken a seat on the bed, his legs crisscrossed. He had his arms folded over his chest, still annoyed that he hadn't gotten any food. He raised his eyebrows, waiting impatiently.

"So, is there any reason you dragged me up into my room and locked the door?" Blaine asked, then raised his eyebrows suggestively, "Is there anything you want to tell me, Finn?" Blaine smiled inwardly as Finn gave him that _look. _There was something about joking about homosexuality- it made Blaine feel safe. He felt that if it seemed like he was comfortable with his sexuality, and he could make jokes about it, than there would be absolutely no suspicion.

_But still the little voice in his head teased him, __'Cause there's something___you need to tell him.__

"Haha," Finn laughed sarcastically. He started pacing the room, his hands pulling at his short, dark hair. "You are__so funny___, _Blaine."

Finn was not pulling on his hair hard enough to yank it out, but he still kind of looked like a maniac, and Blaine wondered if Finn was about to have a full-on mental breakdown in his room. "Uh, Finn?"

Finn didn't answer Blaine and kept pacing, making noises in his throat or muttering curse words.

"Okay, Finn. What's going on? You're kind of freaking me out here." Blaine said from the bed. "Did yo kill someone or-?"

"Rachel wants to have sex." Finn said suddenly, cutting across Blaine.

Blaine sat stunned; his arms dropped from their folded position and fell into his lap.__Really?__That's what this mini-mental breakdown was caused by? __And I thought I was bad___, _Blaine mused to himself.

"Uhhhh."

Blaine awkwardly cleared his throat. What the hell was Finn thinking, coming for advice from him? Finn knew that Blaine pretty much had zero sexual experience. "Isn't that, uh, a good thing?" He offered unhelpfully.

"Yes! Well—yes! But," Finn stopped pacing and sat down next to Blaine on the bed, making the piece of furniture groan and sag under his weight. "I just don't want to mess it up." He gave a desperate look at Blaine before flopping down on the bed and covering his eyes in true_ woe-is-me_ fashion. His striped polo shirt had ridden up the tiniest bit, showing the tiny bit of dark hair leading into the waist of his jeans. __Don't look,__Blaine reminded himself and looked down at his folded hands in his lap

"You won't mess it up," Blaine said, still not looking at Finn. Then he grinned and said, "I mean, you know which hole to stick it in, right? 'Cause that would be a mood killer." He laughed at his own joke, but Finn didn't seem to find it very funny.

"Oh my god, how are you my friend?" Finn groaned, throwing a pillow at the back at Blaine's laughing head. "You suck. This is a__serious__problem dude!"

Blaine lay down next to Finn, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, that was mean. But, I don't get how this is a problem. I mean is it, like, the sex part you're worried about? Or is it her dumping you afterwards because you sucked or she's embarrassed? I mean, you're not a virgin, so, I don't get it." Blaine said honestly, he was really not seeing what Finn was so scared of.

"I don't know either," Finn shrugged. "It's just… we went through so much shit. We've dumped each other so many times that I can't even keep track. I just don't want it to be something she regrets before she goes off to New York."

"New York?"

"Yeah, her and Kurt have their eyes set on this performing arts college in New York City," Finn said, waving his hand vaguely, "But whatever. God, what if she hates me after!"

"Uh, isn't she the one who brought this up? And frankly, just the fact that you're actually showing concern over the fact that she wants to have sex and maybe you guys aren't ready, means that you won't mess it up. The way to mess things up is to go into things too quickly." Blaine said matter-of-factly.

Finn looked over to Blaine, "Uh, okay. That sounded oddly experienced, do you have a girlfriend that I don't know about?" Then he laughed, "Actually no offense dude, but I think it's those chick flicks you've been watching. They're making you girl-smart. You're like-" he paused, looking over at Blaine, his eyes slightly squinted, "the girl whisperer or something.

"And what's wrong with that? I know how to act in a manner in which girls don't run screaming from me," Blaine said, a little bit defensively, although he knew the only reason why girls would want to be around him would be for a shopping buddy, or wanting him to be their gay BFF.

"Yeah, whatever. Maybe I should start paying attention to when Rachel puts on those movies—"

"Except when you're watching the Notebook, dude. Don't pay attention. Seriously." Blaine said, then silently cursing himself for actually saying that out loud. It wasn't that he felt didn't comfortable around Finn- the problem was that he felt _too _comfortable. He would say things that he normally wouldn't say to the football team or his other classmates.

But Finn didn't seem to even notice anything and just laughed and nodded, "Okay then. I won't pay attention. But anyways, thanks man."

"I didn't even give you any advice," Blaine said, confused.

"Yeah, but you didn't laugh at me and call me a pussy," said Finn. "Which is seriously a whole lot better than having towels thrown at you and being called names, so yeah. Thanks, man."

For some reason Blaine started to feel a little awkward. He and Finn had never really been ones to have these kinds of chats, as they were sometimes uncomfortable, as they were to most boys. They preferred the joking around and playful teasing.

"You're welcome, I guess."

"And not to make this seem anymore gay, or whatever, but you're seriously my best friend. If I had gone to like, Puck with this or whatever, he would have thrown condoms at me and said 'good luck.'"

So, yeah. And you help me with my homework, so that makes you really awesome."

Blaine laughed quietly, "Yeah. I am pretty awesome."

__Except for the fact that you trust me with one of your deepest insecurities and feelings and I can't even tell you the one thing that has been pretty much eating me alive for years. I can't even tell you even thought I know that you will be okay with it, that I would still be your friend. So, I really am not awesome and don't deserve to be considered your best friend at all. Because right now, I'm not even acting like a friend. More like a stranger.__

OOOOOOOOOO

The next day at school, Blaine got a text message from Finn first thing in the morning to meet him in the choir room. Blaine had been in the choir room once or twice before, mostly when Finn told him to meet him there.

When he walked it, he saw it was empty, save for Mike, a member of the football team and his girlfriend, Tina. They gave Blaine a quick wave, who waved back, and quickly went back to their discussion, completely engrossed in what they were doing and ignoring the outside world.

"Blaine!" Finn jumped up from where he was seated in one of the chairs up front, "Good! I talked to Rachel and I pretty much said what you said about it would be bad for us to rush into things and that maybe we should take it slow, and only do things when we're sure we're ready. And she was all happy and told me that I was so considerate and she's coming over this Friday night and I think she was really happy about this." When he was done, he took a huge breath and smiled happily at Blaine, "this is__great!__She's not mad __at all___!"_

Blaine wanted to tell him that Rachel wouldn't have been mad anyway, since she brought it up, but instead he returned Finn's smile. "Dude, that's awesome!"

"Yeah dude, you should tell me what to do more often," said Finn, "I owe you."

_Yeah, 'cause I'm you best friend, _Blaine thought bitterly to himself. Last night after Finn had left, Blaine couldn't sleep. All he could think about was Finn telling him about how he was such a good friend, and how he could trust him with anything. And who was Blaine to just take advantage of this and not even trust Finn back and tell him his secrets?

He had promised himself that he was going to tell Finn. Today. He was going to do it. __Today. __

The bell rang, and the rest of the Glee club shuffled into the room, taking their seats. Mr. Schue came out from his office and sat down on the piano bench, trying to not to stare at the football player who he had never stepped foot in the choir room before.

"See you later, dude," Finn said before heading back to his seat.

"Wait!" yelled Blaine loudly, and then felt self-conscious after the Glee members gave him really strange looks. "Uh, what're you doing after school today?"

Finn gave him a strange look, "Uh, nothing dude." Then his face lit up and he clapped his hands together, "Dude! I got the new Jackass movie! You're coming over and watching it."

"Right, yeah. Sounds like a plan." _It's okay, _blaine told himself, _he's your bestfriend. Everything will be fine. Why am I so worried?_

Blaine turned to leave, still feeling the stares of the Glee members on his back. When he reached the door, Kurt was entering, followed closely by Rachel.

Rachel was all smiles, and greeted Blaine warmly. "Good morning, Blaine Anderson."

"Hi, Rachel," then he turned to Kurt, who was not giving Blaine the warmest of greetings, in fact, he pretended he didn't even see him. Blaine tried to say hello, but the words got stuck in his throat and it sort of came out sounding like "hrrngh."

Mortified, Blaine rushed out of the classroom as fast as he could. He mentally beat himself, could he be any more obvious to Kurt? Why didn't he just hand deliver the letters to Kurt, as after __that__ smooth conversation Kurt would probably go home and burn the letters, because now he knew that Blaine was writing them.

And __oh god,__Blaine felt the urge to slam his head against the lockers repeatedly as his _stupid _brain reminded him of that time where he had told Kurt he looked like Link Larkin. From Hairspray. While they were alone. In a car. And then he pretty much told Kurt that he found him irresistibly attractive and then probably creeped Kurt out by practically sitting on his lap the whole ride to sectionals.

Seriously, why did he have to be so socially retarded?

OOOOOOOOOO

Finn continued staring at the television screen, laughing at the stupid pranks being pulled by the Jackass crew. His hand dug into the popcorn bowl on his lap to grab a handful of popcorn and shove it in his mouth. Some pieces didn't quite make it into his mouth and fell to the floor, much to Blaine's disgust.

Blaine sat across from Finn with his legs crossed, watching as his best friend laughed and made a huge mess. He felt anxious, and he wasn't sure this was the smartest idea in the world, but __someone __besides Kurt had to know, or else Blaine would probably explode. And Kurt didn't even count, because Kurt didn't actually know who was writing those letters to him—Kurt probably thought he was one of those people who didn't talk to anybody, he would never guess that Blaine Anderson was writing those letters.

At least Blaine hoped not.

"Finn?" Blaine asked tentatively. On the screen, one of the crew slid down the stairs on his knees, slamming headfirst into the wall at the bottom.

"What? Oh my god, dude! Did you see that!" responded Finn, not looking away from the television.

"Oh god, that has got to hurt."

"Finn?" Blaine asked again, this time more urgently. Finn turned his head slowly towards Blaine, clearly not wanting to miss a second of the show. "What, man. What's wrong? You look all, like, clammy, dude."

As soon as Blaine had Finn's full attention, he wasn't sure he wanted it. He looked down at his lap and stared at his hands. Blaine could feel Finn's eyes on him, but then Finn shook his head and turned back towards the TV, and stuffing his mouth full of popcorn.

Blaine took a deep breath and spoke again, this time with more confidence. He was going to do this. He was not going to chicken out.

"Finn."

Finn turned to look at Blaine once again, "What, dude? Are you okay? You seriously look kind of funny…"

For a second Blaine struggled to find words, but then he thought of a better idea, an easier idea—he reached over for his phone, flipped it open and typed out a message to Finn.

A moment later, Blaine heard Finn's phone vibrate loudly in his pocket. Blaine watched with his heart beating loudly in his chest and Finn looked at the screen and then back at Blaine.

"Dude, what the hell? Really?" Nevertheless, Finn opened the message and read it, at first looking confused.

"What do you mean you like boys?" Finn looked at Blaine with what looked like an expression of annoyance. Then it seemed like a light bulb flicked on above his head, his mouth dropped open.

"__Ohhh.___"_ There was a strange look on Finn's face, and Blaine looked down at his lap, finding himself unable to look anywhere else.

Blaine could feel his face flush deeply, and he had never felt so humiliated and exposed in his life. He had watched YouTube videos about coming out. All the "It Gets Better" videos, and just random ones that men and women made about their coming out experience. Most of them said it felt liberating, but Blaine sort of felt like he wanted to crawl back into his comfortable place in the closet and never come out. He wanted to run away as fast as he could, before Finn realized all the shameful things Blaine wanted and dreamt about.

"So, like. You're gay? Like, Kurt? But you don't seem—" Finn stopped talking when he saw the look on Blaine's face. He had obviously thought he had said something offensive, and immediately started to backtrack.

"Not that you __act __like Kurt, but you're__gay__like Kurt. Are you sure?"

Blaine's continuing blank stare answered Finn's question for him. Finn just let out a low whistle and shook his head, "Well, I can't say that I'm actually all that surprised."

That got Blaine's attention. "Excuse me?"

Finn quickly backtracked again, he was not handling this the way he wanted to, "Not that you're like obviously gay—" Blaine quickly hushed him, casting a look towards the not-quite-closed door. "Sorry," Finn continued in a whisper, "Not so obviously gay. But you've never had a girlfriend, and you don't ever go on dates, even when Ellie asked you out on a date. She's kind of the second hottest girl in the school."

"Do you think other people know that I'm, you know…" Blaine asked, a sick feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach.

"No! No, I don't think so. I mean, I've never heard the guys say anything about it, they all just think you're really serious about your school work." Finn said, attempting to be comforting.

An awkward silence fell over the two of them—Finn playing with his phone in his hands while Blaine sat across from him, avoiding Finn's eyes by staring at the television, which was still showing the Jackass crew doing stupid things.

"So…" Finn said, a mischievous look on his face, "Do you have any crushes on the football team?" He gasped, almost flipping the popcorn bowl over, "what about that guy in our history class! You're always talking to him!"

"Oh my _god,_ Finn!" Blaine groaned. Finn started laughing as Blaine threw a pillow at his face. "Just because I talk to him doesn't mean I like him!"

Blaine felt the tension that had been building in his body for three years leave his body. He had finally told somebody. And they didn't care.** Finn was just joking around with him as if Blaine had told him he ****had a crush on some girl in his math class. Blaine threw the pillow back, and Finn stuffed it beside him, suddenly trying to look serious.**

"But, really. Do you want to talk to Kurt? I mean he went through this stuff, and I'm sure he'd be happy to talk to you." He looked at Blaine awkwardly, "I mean, honestly I have no idea what to say to you about the gay stuff, but Kurt-"

"No!" Blaine burst out, waving his hands around, the last thing he needed was Kurt to find out he was gay. Then trying to play cool, he tucked a loose curl behind his ear and said very calmly, "No, I mean. He's mad at me anyway. He'd probably not want to talk to me."

"Oh yeah," Finn said, turning back to the television. "I asked him about that, 'cause he was saying some really mean things about you. Anyway, I was all, 'why do you hate Blaine so much, he's not that bad,' and Kurt was all, 'no he's even worse because I thought he was nice and different from the rest of the football team, but he's not.' So, he's still hurt about you not wearing the button because it thought it made you look gay—" Finn laughed and smiled at Blaine, "Although, I guess you actually had a reason that people would think that."

"So he's still mad at me for that button thing?"

"Yep, he thinks you're a football playing homophobic jock who is afraid to be themselves or whatever. But if him not hating you means so much, because I know how people hating you bothers you, why don't you just tell him that's you're gay, he'd probably understand and want to help."

"No. No, I think—it's just that I don't want people knowing right now. So, it would be awesome if you could not tell anybody." Blaine said quietly.

Finn nodded, "Your secret is safe with me, dude."

**Oh, Blaine! :') Thanks for all of you who read and review, I read every single one of them and they're all awesome! And now that Finn knows about Blaine's little secret- who knows what will happen next muahahahahahaha. **


	15. Chapter 15

_Dear Kurt, _

_ I told somebody. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be- but definitely traumatic. I mean, they're my Best friend and all, but there was still that feeling like they weren't going to Accept me, or they were just going to be freaked out at first. And I probably wouldn't have handled them freaking out well- I'm more of a non-confrontational person. So I probably would have just run out of there like a chicken._

_ Anyway, I guess that's it then. Somebody knows and I guess I just have to hope they don't tell anyone. Oh my god, and that's just it- why do I have to care so much? I mean, I just don't get why I don't want everyone to know. It's just, I stress myself out so much over keeping this secret and sometimes at the end of the day- I just sit there and ask myself, "why?"_

_ At first I think it's because of high school kids, but I'm a senior and I'm probably never going to see any of these people again. Then I think my family and friends won't accept me- but then yesterday that was proved wrong. I don't understand myself. I should get a self-help book. Or something._

_ Anyway, these totally started out as creepy love letters to you, but now they're turning into me whining to you. I apologize, as I should be showering you in compliments and poems and such. I would totally write you a poem, but they all suck. I feel like you would a romantic person, and this is where we would not be a good match- as I know what romance looks like on the television screen, but I would never know what to do to make a date romantic. I mean, I could go on and on about how nice you look in skinny jeans, and how nice your eyes are, but I feel like that's more creepy than romantic._

_ But I guess the fact that you pretty much know me better than anyone else in the entire world knows me is- could that be considered romantic? I sure hope so, because if it's not, then I'm failing pretty miserably at this whole love note thing._

_ Maybe I'll go watch some more romantic comedies. _

_ -The guy who would really like to be your boyfriend but is too much of a jerk to do anything about it._

_P.S. __Are your legs tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day long.__ ;)_


	16. Chapter 16

**Wow, I just want to thank you ALL for being the most wonderful and patient readers! I love all the reviews, and sometimes I just can't believe that so many people read this, haha.**

**Also, I would like to thank my beta, Ikot-ikot, who kept me going and made me write. I had completely put this story on the back burner, and they reminded me that people are waiting! So, you guys should go thank them too, ;)**

**So, I apologize for the rate that these chapters are going out- I know it's slow, I'm sorry! But this has been the busiest/most exciting/scariest weeks of my life. I had my governors school audition, I;m working on getting a solo, and I played the national anthem in front of hundreds of people. It was really crazy. **

**And enough of me talking, enjoy Blaine flailing over Kurt- I mean, the chapter!**

Blaine got out of his last period early that day by talking really sweet to his math teacher, making up an excuse about how he had to turn in an essay. His teacher just looked at him blankly, clearly knowing that this was a lie, and knew the 'paper' could most certainly wait until after the bell rang at the end of the day. Either Blaine's charming smile worked, or maybe it was the kids who started throwing paper across the room distracting her, as she waved him off, telling him to have a good afternoon.

So, with a note in hand, Blaine strolled down the hallway, keeping an eye out for stray students walking past him. He knew that he had nothing to worry about, as it seemed like Kurt did not tell anybody about the notes, but Blaine couldn't help but feel a little bit uneasy as he passed the doors to the classrooms. Inside, he could hear students talking and lauging.

When he rounded the corner, he saw Kurt standing at his locker. "_Shit!_" Blaine cursed quietly, hiding back around the corner. He held his breath, waiting for Kurt to walk away. Blaine heard the faint sound of hairspray being sprayed, and then he heard the locker shut. He waited for the sound of footsteps—but they never came.

__What if he's waiting for me?__Blaine wondered, not sure if he thought that was a good thing or bad thing, when he still didn't hear retreating footsteps.

The way he saw it, he had two options. He could leave now, and shove the note into Kurt's locker tomorrow morning—he couldn't wait until after school today and deliver it like he usually did, as he had to get straight home and pick up his sister to drop her off at a camp. Or he could walk past Kurt, stick with his English paper excuse, and hope Kurt doesn't suspect anything. Maybe even try to talk to him.

__He won't suspect a thing___, _Blaine tried to convince himself, _don't worry_. It's not like he had given any huge clues as to who is writing the notes. Well, expect for one—but Blaine didn't think that Kurt would even notice, since his handwriting was a little bit messy when he was in a hurry or nervous.

Taking a chance, Blaine walked out from where he was hiding and heading towards Kurt, his eyes down.

Kurt whipped around from his locker, apparently very eager to see who was walking down the hall towards him. If Blaine wasn't so anxious, he probably would have liked to snap a picture of the surprised look on Kurt's face.

_"___Blaine?"__Kurt exclaimed, the shoulder strap of his messenger bag slipped from his shoulder, and his bag fell to the ground with a soft _thump._

Blaine looked up from the ground, telling himself to '_play it cool—be cool.' _He looked at Kurt and smiled, "Oh, hey Kurt."

Kurt's eyes traveled over Blaine's body, stopping at the piece of paper clutched in his hand. A slight flush creeped up his neck, and Blaine decided that maybe he should say somgthing, because the thoughts going through Kurt's mind were literally written all over his face.

"I gotta go turn in this essay to my English teacher—" he waved the note around, "I suckered Mrs. Little into letting me out before the bell."

Kurt was silent. He didn't look so stricken anymore, and Blaine thought that maybe he looked disappointed- or that might have just imagined that out of his hopefulness.

"So, what are you doing out?" Blaine asked awkwardly, the silence dragging on much too long for his liking.

"Oh, uhm—" Kurt cleared his throat, "I was waiting for somebody, but I think they must have gone home or something. They usually come in the morning, but you know..." he trailed off, looking away from Blaine and then down to his fingernails. "They just needed to give me something, I don't know."

Blaine nodded slowly. __So he was waiting for me. Or, well, he doesn't know it's me.__

And Blaine was sure of this, because Kurt was starting to look bored. He wasn't sure if this was an act, or if Kurt just actually wanted to get the hell out of there. Was he uncomfortable with his presence? Did he think that Blaine had a whole line-up of football players hidden with slushies at the ready?

__This is really weird,__Blaine couldn't help but think. And he never wanted to be able to read minds as much as he did now. He wanted to know exactly why Kurt was biting his lip, why he was looking at the ground instead of Blaine, he wanted to know if Kurt was still mad at him.

Blaine figured that the way to make it seem like he wasn't completely head over heels for Kurt was to act completely natural—and not to do anything stupid, like wave to him from the football field, stutter over his words, or play with Kurt's hair. The last one might give it away. __Oh my God.__

"Uh, Finn told me that you were still mad about what I said the other day, and I just wanted to let you know that I didn't mean it." He paused awkwardly. Blaine wasn't exactly sure how his apology was being taken. Kurt had this _look_, and it was impossible to discern what it meant sometimes, but Blaine continued anyway. "So, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, or—"

"It's fine," Kurt said, waving away Blaine's apology, and to Blaine's credit, he actually looked somewhat impressed. That someone of such '_high social standing' _would actually apologize to the Glee clubber.

"Yeah," Blaine shifted on his feet awkwardly, he had no idea what to say next. He was actually afraid to say anything—what if Kurt realized that Blaine talked just like the anonymous writer of his love notes? __That could also be a dead give-away- wait I've been talking this whole time- shit!___, _thought Blaine frantically. "Well, I gotta go. Essay, right?" He said, already starting to walk away.

Kurt nodded, "Yeah, right. See you around, Blaine."

"Right, bye." Blaine waved and walked off down the hall, wondering where he was actually going to go, as he really didn't have an English paper to turn in. He decided to take a detour to the bathroom, and just wait a couple of minutes until Kurt was gone from his locker.

__Wait___, _Blaine froze. He couldn't very well deliver the note now, could he? Kurt knew that there was no note delivered this morning, and it's last period. Unless... the writer had slipped it in right after the bell rang? Blaine shrugged, this was plausible. He would go with that, and besides, Kurt knew for a fact (or he thought he did) that Blaine was going to turn in an essay, not stuffing sappy notes into his locker.

After seven minutes passed, Blaine was pretty sure it was safe. He peeked his head out the bathroom door, checking for anyone coming down the hall; it was empty. He quickly half-ran towards Kurt's locker, slipped the note in the crack, but made sure to fold it a different way than it was before, just in case Kurt noticed.

Blaine once again glanced up and down the hallway, making sure nobody saw. He wasn't sure what he would actually do if he saw someone watching, but he liked to check anyway, and once again it was empty. The only people that wouldhave a chance of seeingBlaine's doings would be the security personnel of the school—if they were paying attention to the cameras. Maybe the secretary's stood around the security camera television and watched Blaine's lame attempts at wooing Kurt Hummel.

_I would probably do that, _Blaine mused to himself. _It must be a boring job- a school secretary._

The bell rang, and the doors started opening and students flooded out, pushing and shoving to be the first ones to their cars or buses. Nobody suspected a thing, as Blaine was already out the front door, digging his car keys from his pocket.

OOOOOOOOOO

Kurt shoved his binder back into his backpack, wondering why he had even bothered to take it out in the first place. He hadn't done any work at all since he came back from his supposed trip to the "bathroom," which actually turned out to be a waste of time.

He had been hoping that his secret admirer (__I really need a new name for him___, _Kurt thought, __secret admirer is way to cliché___), _would have snuck by during lunch or between last period class and slipped him a note. He had been on pins and needles the whole day, since he usually got one in the morning, but when he checked before first period, there was nothing there.

Sighing, Kurt joined the line of students trying to shove their way out the door. He had gotten so used to getting these daily notes, and now that he didn't get one, it felt like his day was incomplete. He had nothing to look forward to when he got home. The notes had given Kurt a reason to make it through the school day, because he got to go home, make himself comfortable, and enjoy the note. Or sometimes enjoy the note, as some of the letters weren't the happiest.

Kurt pushed through the crowds and put in the combination for his locker. When he opened it, a note fell out, and Kurt quickly bent down to pick it up, a huge, happy grin on his face. He felt butterflies in his stomach, and he opened his bag and put it in, his blood thrumming with curiosity of what this new note could say.

He closed his locker and hitched his back over his shoulder, feeling considerably happier about his day. He was walking behind a girl with dirty blonde hair and her friend, who were discussing prom—which Kurt thought was a little bit too soon, but he guessed there was nothing wrong with planning ahead.

"No, Blaine Anderson? I wouldn't mind going to prom with him," Kurt heard the girl say to her friend, and he smiled to himself when he thought back to when he saw Blaine in the hallway. About how stupid he had been, jumping to conclusions.

For a second, Kurt had actually thought he had found the author of his notes, but then Blaine had calmly explained how he was going to turn in his essay for English, and Kurt's idea was completely blown out of the water.

Kurt thought that Blaine was actually a really nice guy, although a bit too concerned with his reputation for Kurt's taste, but, all in all his heart was in the right place. Kurt could hardly imagine Blaine going through the things explained to him in the notes—Blaine seemed like a genuinely happy person. __Although he does get kind of... weird sometimes. Maybe—no___. _Kurt shook his head, casting away the ridiculous image of Blaine sitting at a desk, writing those notes.

__But seriously? No.__Kurt thought as he pushed the red doors to the school open. __As if Blaine Anderson would write me love letters.__

OOOOOOOOOO

That afternoon, Blaine was lounging on Finn's bed, tossing a small ball up in the air and catching it while Finn sat at his desk and made an attempt studying math**.**

"Did you do number ten yet?" Blaine asked, throwing the ball at the back of Finn's desk chair. It bounced off and landed three feet away, which was just far enough that Blaine felt too lazy to get.

"No. I'm still on six," he swiveled around in his chair and reached down for the ball, pegging it at Blaine. "This isn't fair! Why do you never have homework? Seriously, this is wrong."

"I'm the only person who seems to do my homework in study hall. And I do the rest at home, after dinner, every single night. If you make something a routine—" Blaine started, smiling. He knew that his little lectures really bothered Finn, and he never missed a chance to annoy him.

"Yes, yes. I know __Professor Blaine___,_" said Finn sarcastically, annoyed that the ball he threw at his friend had instead hit the wall instead of its intended target: Blaine's head. "Alright, I'm done. This isn't due for another two days, anyway." He swiveled back around in his chair and slammed his text book shut. He got out of the chair and headed for the door, signaling for Blaine to come with him, but he didn't move.

"You'll feel better if you finish it now, Finn, you shouldn't put things off—" Blaine said in a disapproving tone. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, stretching his legs out on the bed.

Finn groaned, leaning down to punch Blaine in the arm. "Oh my god, Blaine. I'm going to buy you a muzzle for your birthday."

Blaine opened one eye and raised an eyebrow, "Ooh, kinky." He laughed, watching as Finn immediately drew his arm away from him and shook his head.

"Wow. Why are we friends again?"

"Because I'm awesome?" Blaine stated matter-of-factly.

When Finn didn't say anything, Blaine reached for a pillow and threw it at Finn. "I'm offended by that silence, jerk."

"Haha, you should be. Now let's go downstairs—" Finn started, but Blaine cut across him.

"But I'm comfortable!" He whined**, drawing out the last word and** rolling onto his stomach, burying his face in another pillow sitting on Finns' bed. It smelled kind of funny, and Blaine quickly pushed it aside.

"We have those hot wings," Finn said. He could see the way Blaine immediately perked up, just like a puppy being offered a treat.

"From TGI Fridays?"

"Yup."

Blaine quickly pushed himself off the bed, pushing past Finn and out the door. He looked over his shoulder, "All right lets go, what are you waiting for?"

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine and Finn were huddled around the steaming pan with wings on it, waiting impatiently for them to cool.

"Do you think they're cool enough to eat yet?" Finn asked, hovering his hand over the food and feeling the steam moisten his palm.

"I don't know, touch them," Blaine said. He watched as Finn gingerly poked one of the wings, but retracting his finger as soon as it touched the chicken. Finn shook his head at Blaine and put his burnt finger in his mouth. "Yeah, they're not cool yet," he said, his words a little muffled.

They both heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Kurt entered the kitchen. He took one look at the frozen food in the pan and immediately said, "You know how unhealthy those are for you?"

"Yeah, well, they're good." Finn shrugged, clearly used to Kurt's obsession with eating healthy.

Blaine was more focused on what Kurt was wearing. He felt heat coil up in the pit of his stomach. Kurt was obviously dressed for comfort, in grey soft-looking sweatpants and a white v-neck t-shirt. It was so different than what he usually dressed in, and if he only saw Kurt at school, it was almost impossible to imagine him in relaxing clothes, or pajamas or something.

__Okay, that's really hot___, _Blaine thought, making an attempt to control his leering.

"'Sup Kurt," he said and, as usual, wanted to punch himself in the face. Kurt just looked at him strangely, and Blaine guessed that he wasn't used to being greeted with a 'sup'.

"'__Sup__." He said back, a smile on his lips, and Blaine was sure that Kurt was laughing at him.

Finn, either completely oblivious to Blaine's awkwardness or choosing just to ignore it, changed the subject. "So Kurt, have you finished the brochures for West Side Story, yet?"

Kurt leaned his elbows on the counter and ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back. It seemed less styled, or maybe it had just deflated throughout the day. __Either way___, _Blaine thought. Then he leaned over more, resting his chin on his arm, and Blaine was fine until Kurt picked his head up and shook it, "No, I'm still working on them. I cant find a good picture to go on the front."

"West Side Story? Like the musical?" Blaine said, his voice a little high pitched, due to the fact that his heart had sped up to an unnatural rate. The way Kurt was leaning made his loose shirt gap, and if Blaine stood at just the right angle, he could see a little bit down Kurt's shirt and his eyes were drawn to the milky color of Kurt's chest. And Blaine made sure that he was standing at just that right angle. It made him feel creepy as _hell, _but once again, he was writing love letters to the guy and he was standing in his kitchen—all the while Kurt was completely unaware of any of this.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you? That's the musical we're doing this year," Finn said, and deciding the wings were cool enough, he picked one up and started picking the meat off the bone with his teeth. Blaine followed his example and grabbed one too.

"Finn is going to be Tony," Kurt explained, leaning up from the counter and pulling up a seat, taking away Blaine's awesome view of his neck and chest.

"That's the main guy, right—who's in love with the girl? Who's playing the girl?"

"Rachel," Kurt rolled his eyes.

Finn threw the thin bones of the wings back into the pan with the rest of them, and Kurt scoffed in disgust."Shut up, Kurt, she's going to be great. Just because you didn't get to play—"

But Finn was the one shutting up after the scathing look Kurt gave him, and Blaine started to feel a little bit out of the loop, as he had no idea what was going on in the Glee drama world.

"Well, that should be good, guys, I guess." Blaine said, trying to diffuse the tension a little.

Finn looked away from Kurt. "Yeah, you should come see it. I think we're charging for the tickets thought, but it's like five bucks or something."

"Cool, yeah, I'll come see you guys. Maybe we could get the football team to come too," Blaine laughed.

"Actually, Coach Beiste got some of the more, uh," Kurt paused, "_open-minded _hockey and lacrosse players to actually be some of the Jets—the rival gang," he added for Blaine. "She said she would have gotten the football team, but I don't know if she ever asked you guys. Or well, I guess there are a bunch of Glee guys that are on the football team..." Kurt trailed off, now eying the pan of wings, his self-control obviously dwindling.

Blaine felt a little bit offended that she had not asked the football players. Did she have no faith in _them _to be open-minded, too? But, Blaine didn't lie to himself, he knew that even if he was asked, he wouldn't have been a part of the musical anyway.

Not that he didn't like the show or the music or anything, but just because that dancing and singing on stage might give the other football guys a reason to make fun of him—and he always made sure that they had no reason to pick on him.

"I thought you said they were unhealthy," Finn said, amused at the way Kurt reached for the wings. Kurt gave him a dirty look and ate one anyway.

"I said they were unhealthy, I never said that they weren't good," he said pointedly.

Blaine watched as Kurt devoured the food, then licked the sauce off his fingers, making noises that made it very clear that he was enjoying it. "Mmm, oh my god. Thank god for Fridays. This is totally going to ruin my skin though," he added the last part quietly, as if Blaine and Finn weren't supposed to hear.

But Kurt just shrugged and reached for another one, licking the extra sauce that was gathered on the top.

"Blaine? You okay?" Finn asked, sending a concerned look at his friend.

__Oh my god I think I'm in love.__

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just, zoned out there." Blaine said, trying to laugh it off. Finn nodded, not entirely convinced, but moved on, turning to get a drink out of the refrigerator, leaving Blaine to watch his step-brother suck his pointer finger in and out his mouth.

There was a tiny _pop _as Kurt pulled his finger out of his mouth and Blaine cast his eyes away, instead focusing on the incredibly interesting granite countertop.

"You need to get rid of these, Finn. These are so good, oh my _god."_

__Wow___, _thought Blaine, __look at that color, and texture of this lovely counter-top. I should talk to my parents about getting a granite top too, I hear it's easier to keep clean—__

"Mmmm."

__Fuck.__

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine wasn't tired that night when he went to bed, and found himself staring blankly at the ceiling at two in the morning.

Like usual, when he couldn't sleep, his mind decided to over-analayze every single moment that happened in his day. He went through his day, minute by minute, sometimes berating himself for being so socially awkward, or smiling when he remembered the nice comments his History teacher made on a paper he wrote.

Then he thought about meeting Kurt in the hallway, and he tried to convince himself that Kurt was not suspicious at all. Well, Blaine was about ninety nine percent sure that Kurt believed his whole "english essay" thing, and he had nothing to worry about, but there was that one percent nagging at the back of his mind.

The same one percent was the same that made Blaine want to kick himself for molesting Kurt's hair in the car, and then sitting on his lap—_or don't forget that one time, where you were helping him with his homework, even though he didn't ask you to._

Blaine rolled onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut.

_But don't worry, he probably didn't notice the way you fumbled around like a fool and tripped on the chair leg, almost sending you falling on top of him. Oh yeah, and you told him that you were in Advanced Calculus, so he probably thinks you're a nerd, too. But don't worry your crazy little curly head though, he also probably doesn't even see the neon flashing sign glued to your forehead, either. You know, the one that says "I'm gay, and I want you"?_

Then Blaine rolled back onto his back, huffing. His _stupid_ brain would not _shut up_. He watched the ceiling fan turn in circles, listening to the soft humming of the blades. Usually it helped him sleep, but it wasn't doing him any good now.

He closed his eyes again, trying to shut off his thoughts for a while. It worked for a few seconds, but then it was like his brain exploded, and it seemed like his whole entire life was being played out in a movie in front of his closed eyelids.

In his mind, Kurt leaned over the counter, except, this time, Finn wasn't there. Comfortable in his warm bed, Blaine licked his lips, thinking about how Kurt looked so hot with his finger in his mouth, his shirt pulled down low, maybe over one shoulder**.**

Blaine cast a lazy glance over to the door, making sure it was closed, then he slowly slipped his hands lower and lower, his eyes shut tight as he thought about Kurt.

The soft shirt would be discarded, and maybe they wouldn't be in the kitchen, so they were in his room, on the very bed that Blaine was laying on now. Kurt's skin would be so soft under his fingers—Blaine bit his lip to suppress a groan that was threatening to escape from his throat. The bed was making tiny squeaks from his movement, but not loud enough to wake anybody up.

Kurt would still have on those grey sweatpants, Blaine on his knees, his face eye level to the waist of Kurt's sweatpants, and they would be easy to pull down over his hips, Blaine imagined. He would press wet kisses against his hip, and maybe even his thigh, if Kurt spread his legs far enough—

Blaine felt his toes curl as he came embarrassingly quick. His hips stopped moving, and he quickly reached a shaky hand over to his bedside table, grabbing a handful of tissues from the box. He wiped his sticky fingers off, then threw the used tissues into the bin. He made a mental note to empty the trash can soon, the last thing he needed was his mom finding them.

Now Blaine was back to staring at the ceiling, although he felt slightly more physically relieved, his mind was still not clear.

He didn't know why he did that. He was just teasing himself with his little fantasies about Kurt—he was making it worse for himself by doing this. He closed his eyes and pushed his curls off his forehead, sighing.

__What are you doing with yourself, Blaine?__


	17. Chapter 17

_Dear Kurt,_

_ I saw you handing out fliers for your clubs musical this morning- for West Side Story, right? I'll try to come see you guys, if I can get a couple of friends to go. Or I could take my younger sibling- they like musicals. I don't know. Now I'm rambling. Either way, I'm try to come see it!_

_ So, I've been watching you- in the most non-creepy way possible, you don't need a bodyguard or anything. Anyway, it's just, the way you walk, and I know I've said this before, but you walk so proud. Like no one in their right mind would try to stop you. You don't take your eyes off your goal. And I just really admire that about you, and I don't know if you get this a lot (you really should) but you really are a role model to all gay kids at this school; whether they are closeted or out. Well, actually, at this school they are most definitely closeted, unless I've missed a particularly large scandal or something. But, back to the point- which is me wishing I could be you._

_ Will you give me lessons?_

_ No, seriously. Maybe when I stop being such a pussy and hiding behind these letters, we could, like, have a conversation face to face. Sometimes I wonder if you know who I am, and you're just to polite to say something to me, in fear of embarrassing me or something. Anyway, hopefully one day maybe I'll be able to kiss you._

_ I fear that I may have crossed the line between creepy and flattering. _

_ I haven't had my first kiss yet._

_ And this is another time where I would be completely mortified if you found out who I was. I feel like I have a complex- I can't decide what I want more: for you to know me or for you to never find out so I can still camp out in my closet._

_ Yeah, no one knows that I've never been kissed. Except for you, now. Feel free to mock me._

_-__The guy who would really like to be your boyfriend but is too much of a jerk to do anything about it_ – _although you might not want me to be your boyfriend since I would probably suck at kissing you_

_P.S. Sometimes I feel like I'm writing in a diary instead of notes. Sorry if you find it weird, but it helps me, I think. Thanks for reading these, and not throwing them away or something. I just really like you._


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews:3 there has actually been one question that has been popping up a lot, asking why on earth is Kurt so oblivious? What I'm going to remind you is that this is written in Blaine's point of view, so some events may be exaggerated. You know how when your around you crush, and everything you do that's stupid or embarrassing, now matter how small or trivial it was, you make **_**such**_** a big deal out of it? That's Blaine. He's a little..paranoid.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! This is the one that sort of starts the more interesting part of the story- be prepared:)**

**Okay, that sounded kind of creepy, lol. Anyway, thank you again for being such awesome readers!**

The weather was starting to get even colder, and Blaine shivered as he walked through his front door that morning. There were flurries of snow drifting through the wind, and they caught in his curls and melted, some dripping down his neck. He pulled his jacket on tighter and got into his car, where it wasn't much warmer.

School was boring that day, and he seemed to walk through the hallways in a daze. His mind kept drifting up into the cloud—and he was nearly late to every class, which surprised most of his teachers, who were used to seeing Blaine first through the door.

Walking through the halls, his eyes strained through the crowd to find a glimpse of chocolate brown hair, his heart skipping a beat when he saw it, but he always felt disappointed when the unknown boy turned around. He didn't see Kurt at all in the halls this morning.

It was beginning to become pathetic, Blaine thought, the amount of time he spent thinking about Kurt. He couldn't help it, every time he passed the boy in the hallway, he fought his eyes not to stare, and it was even worse in his French class, where he could hear Kurt talking sensually in the foreign language, the words sliding so easily off his tongue. It was the only class that Blaine had with Kurt, and he cursed his teacher every day for picking partners for them. Blaine didn't know any other students in that class, and he could have easily passed off a partnership with Kurt with a "you're the only person I know" excuse.

At lunch, he sat with the Glee kids, sitting silently, listening to the club members talk about their opening performance of West Side Story tonight. He wasn't bored, although he felt sort of left out, and after twenty minutes or so, he brought out his homework, for once not feeling judged as he worked on his boundary value worksheet.

He did feel judged, however, by the football players who were giving him strange looks out of the corner of their eye. Blaine had never sat with the Glee kids before. Same with the track team, sitting a couple tables over. They had seen Blaine sign up for their team just this morning, and they had expected to sit with them.

But Blaine stubbornly sat down next to Finn, who looked pleasantly surprised, an embarrassed flush on his neck. He didn't like the attention he was getting from his team- what the hell did they care where he sat down for lunch?

Much to Blaine's pleasure, Kurt provided a welcome interruption to him moments later, sliding over the bench with a paper in his hand and a calculator in another. He took the seat across from Blaine, pushing his paper towards him, asking him sheepishly for help.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," laughed Kurt, handing Blaine the calculator. "I suppose I could have gone to my teacher this morning, but I feel like she doesn't like me very much, so I figured I would ask you, Mr. Advanced Calculus."

Blaine flushed, and wondered if Kurt was flirting with him—it sure sounded like it. But he pushed it from his mind, focusing on the problems of Kurt's homework, he couldn't bear to give himself the satisfaction of thinking Kurt was flirting because deep inside, he knew he wasn't, Kurt was just asking an acquaintance for help on Math . He managed to show Kurt what he was supposed to be doing without making a complete fool of himself.

They were passing a calculator back and forth, and every time they handed the other the device, their hands met briefly. After the first time, Blaine felt the need to touch Kurt's hands as much as possible. It was like a highly addicting drug, and Blaine found himself taking the calculator when he didn't even need it, just so Kurt would have to brush his fingers against his own to get it back.

He was in a very good mood after lunch. He already had his note planned out in his head, and he couldn't wait until his study hall to finally scribble it down. But he didn't have to wait until study hall to deliver the note; instead, he wrote it during history class.

It was taking a risk, he knew, by writing the letter right in front of Finn, but his friend didn't seem to notice, since Blaine always finished his tests early and worked on homework for other classes. He had asked for a pass for the bathroom, the note clutched in his hand.

Blaine had thought that he felt Finn's eyes on him as he left, but he knew he was probably just imagining it, or overreacting. He walked out the door, vaguely wondering if he would meet Kurt in the hall again. The sensible part of him said no, as Kurt would become very suspicious if he saw Blaine like that again, and the other half just wanted to see him. Just because.

OOOOOOOOO

Right when they got home from school, Kurt dashed up the stairs as usual, a note clutched tightly in his left hand. He ignored Finn's calls for him to come back downstairs and entertain him, apparently he was so bored. But Kurt shut his door behind him and flopped down on the bed, his feet hanging off the side.

His heart beat quickly as he skimmed the page, there was a faint hope that maybe today his admirer would sign his name, but as usual, there was a cute little one liner, once again saying that he wanted to be his boyfriend so bad, but was too afraid to do anything about it.

The resenting part of Kurt wanted to punch this boy, because if he wanted to be with Kurt so bad, why the hell didn't he just tell him? It's not like he would totally reject this guy and be rude. But then Kurt tried to remind himself that this was obviously really hard for whoever this was.

But the lack of clues was annoying Kurt to no end—the one thing that should have been a clue actually backfired on Kurt. At first, he was convinced it was a popular boy or a jock, since they were the most worried about their reputation—but then he realized that it might as well be a mathlete or some average student, who would be bullied to no end.

He wanted to respect this person's privacy, since he came to Kurt with such nice letters, looking for a way to express himself without judgment. But he couldn't help the undying, desperate curiosity that ate at him every single day.

Every boy that glanced towards him during the day sent a shiver down his spine and a million questions racing through his head. __Is it him? Could it be?__

Much to Kurt's disappointment, this note, too, lacked any hints. The curious boy sighed, setting the note beside him on the bed and tucking his face in his forearms, much like he would do at school when he was tired. He heard his bedroom door open, and he didn't think much of it—Finn was always barging into rooms unannounced. He closed his eyes and didn't respond to Finns greetings—until he remembered the note sitting right beside him. Kurt wasn't ready to share this secret.

Kurt shot up and grabbed the note and shoved it under his stomach. It wasn't the sneakiest of moves, but Finn didn't see what was written on the page.

"Dude, what was that? A note?" Finn asked, leaning forward and looking at the bed where the note was.

"It was nothing," Kurt said, his voice muffled. He had once again buried his face in his arms. His eyes were closed, and they stung. They had the dry feeling that he always got when he was tired, or when he was about to cry. He had had a rough day, and he really just wanted Finn to go and leave him to his notes.

"It wasn't nothing or else you wouldn't have hidden it like that, just tell me." Finn whined, poking Kurt's side with a blunt finger.

Kurt groaned, "Just go away."

"I'm not leaving until you show me. My interest is piqued." He stated matter-of-factly, folding his arms across his chest and lying back against Kurt's headboard.

"Your interest is—?" Kurt shook his head, "Never mind. But I'm not showing you, it's private and has nothing to do with you."

Finn didn't budge. "So is this why you go up to your room every day? To have a secret session or whatever?"

"Finn, now you're just trying to be annoying, and frankly, it's working."

"So is it like a love letter or something?" Finn took Kurt's silence for affirmation, "oh my god, you have an admirer!"

Before Kurt could respond, Finn took action. He lunged forward and grabbed the note from under Kurt, who valiantly punched every inch of Finn he could get at.

"Give it back! That's none of your business!" Kurt yelled, climbing off the bed to get at Finn, but it was too late; Finn was already across the room holding a water bottle at arm's length as his weapon.

There was an unreadable expression on Finn's face as he looked at the letter. "Do you know who is sending these?" He asked, and it was perfectly clear that he knew who it was.

Kurt shook his head, "No, I have no idea. And it's really none of your concern—" he paused, watching Finn's expression to gauge his reaction, "Unless you know who it is?" Kurt watched as Finn shook his head in disbelief.

"You know! Tell me!" Kurt exclaimed, jumping off the bed and lunged for the note. "You have to tell me, Finn! You can't just barge in here and take my personal belongings and then not tell me!"

"I can't—no. You don't—" Finn stammered, now looking extremely uncomfortable. Then he looked at his step-brother with a softer expression, "Kurt, you don't believe these notes do you?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Kurt said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Finn the bitch look. "Of course I do, they're heartfelt. This boy—whoever he is—is going through a lot right now, and I don't think he would appreciate it if he knew other people besides me were reading these notes!"

Finn mumbled something that sounded like, "No, I don't think he would." But Kurt couldn't be sure, but it did help his assumption that Finn did indeed recognize the handwriting. He looked at this stepbrother, "Kurt, I don't think you should be so obsessed with these notes."

"I'm not obsessed," Kurt said, offended. "It's just that they're private! And I think that maybe he seems to have come a long way ever since he started writing those notes! I think they're helping him, he even came out to one of his friends since he wrote them!"

Finn still had a strange look on his face, like he was going to sick. "It's not—" he handed Kurt back the note, who carefully folded it and placed it in the drawer of his bedside table.

"I know what it is," Kurt said, his back still turned to Finn. "I know that these are helping him and I'm going to listen as long as he needs me to. Besides," Kurt felt a warm blush on his cheeks as he said, "he says he wants to be my boyfriend, and maybe…" he trailed off.

"You don't even know this guy, seriously, you've never met him. I don't know why he's writing these notes to you." Finn said, for once trying to be the voice of reason.

"But you've met him! I don't care if I've never met him, just tell me his name," Kurt said, turning back around, his face still a little bit pink, then he seemed to change his mind. "Wait, no. Don't tell me—it ruins the mystery around it, I think. Also, I don't think it would be fair to him."

"You think you're going to get a boyfriend out of this?" Finn said incredulously. He shook his head, and Kurt began to feel angry. Finn had no idea.

He had paid his dues, and Kurt deserved this happiness, he thought. Why couldn't he have somebody to love him, just as Finn had Rachel or Quinn? What was Finn's problem?

"I don't care what you think," Kurt said stubbornly. "There is a connection, and I don't care who this guy is—but I think that when he decides to tell me who he is, then maybe we could get together. And what we do then will be none of your business."

Finn stared at Kurt and shook his head, before hurriedly leaving the room. Kurt could hear his footsteps bang down the stairs, and then heard the jingle of car keys.

Kurt shut the door behind him, then walked over and retrieved a notebook hidden in the drawer. He went back to his position on the bed, going through his school day in his mind, thinking of all the boys he thought it could possibly be.

There was a list on the first page of boys' names. And at the end, Kurt picked up a pen lying idly on the floor and wrote in a new name. He had been wanting to write this name down all day, but he had forgotten his notebook this morning.

Right under Anthony Marquises' name, Kurt wrote __Blaine Anderson___. _He didn't think it was likely, but Blaine was incredibly nice to him today at lunch by helping him with his math homework, and a little bit handsy if he said so himself.

Even if Kurt was actually ninety nine percent sure it wasn't Blaine, it was still a nice thought. Besides, most of the other names on the list were just as ridiculous, Kurt just liked to think that a nice, attractive boy was writing these notes. However, Finn said that Kurt had never met whoever this boy was, so Kurt was probably oblivious to this guy's existence.

__Either way,__Kurt thought dreamily as he closed his eyes, a lazy smile on his lips, __I wouldn't mind if Blaine or Anthony were writing them.__

OOOOOOO

Blaine had been lounging around the house after school, eating everything in sight and watching Spongebob. He had just gotten comfortable on the couch with a bowl of cereal resting on his stomach and his feet on the coffee table when the doorbell rang.

Mentally cursing to himself, he reluctantly set the bowl on the table and walked over to the door. When he pulled it open, much to his surprise was, Finn.

"Uh, hi Finn. Didn't I see you like an hour ago? What—"

"I know it's you."

A cold dread settled in the pit of Blaine's stomach. He knew at once what Finn was talking about. No matter what Blaine had tried to convince himself, it was really only a matter of time before Finn found out about the letters one way or another—he lived with Kurt after all. But Blaine still tried to play dumb, just in case.

"Wha—Finn? What the hell are you talking about?"

Finn shook his head, not buying his act. "Don't play dumb, Blaine." Well, there went Blaine's plan. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

So there really was no way of getting around it. Blaine sighed and brought his hands up to his eyes, trying to fight back the bizarre urge to cry. "Well, okay. What? Did you come over to here to make fun of me for it?"

"No, but—Blaine." Finn pushed himself past Blaine and into the house, closing the door behind him. "What the fuck were you thinking? Sending __love letters __to Kurt! Did you ever think—"

"_I ___know___! _You think I don't know how stupid that sounds?" Blaine countered, feeling annoyed and, a little bit puzzled about why Finn was taking this so strongly. "I was careful, I don't, like, stuff them in his locker during class changes or anything, while everyone's around—"

"I'm not talking about you! I'm talking about Kurt!"

"What about Kurt?"

"Did you ever think that sending these things aren't good for him?" Finn asked, his face was turning red now and as he got angrier, Blaine swore Finn grew a couple of feet. Blaine had never been intimidated by Finn's height before, but now, he was pretty sure Finn could crush him with his pinky finger.

Blaine shook his head, backing away from Finn the tiniest bit. He knew Finn wouldn't get physical with him, but still.

"Think about this, Blaine! I know you can, you're smart right? Kurt thinks that he has a possibility of getting a boyfriend out of this—"

"Well," Blaine interjected, feeling a little bit embarrassed at admitting that he had thought about maybe dating Kurt. "You don't know what—"

"No, Blaine—look, Kurt thinks that he's going to get a boyfriend out of this! One that will hold his hand while they're walking down the hallway and go on dates in public with! You can't give him that!"

Blaine raised his eyebrows, feeling a little bit offended that he would just jump to the conclusion that he wouldn't at least__try___. _And Finn also had no idea what else Blaine had written to Kurt, he was just jumping to conclusions. "Whoa, what the hell makes you think that? Maybe I will try to do—"

"Yeah, you'll try! But I know you Blaine, you_ won't. _You won't come out of the closet, and—" Finn raised his hands, trying to show that he really wasn't trying to offend Blaine, but he was doing a damn good job of it. "Maybe you won't be in the closet forever, but you won't come out during high school. I know this—"

"What's your point, Finn? To come over here and yell at me about how I'm such a _coward?_"

"No! I came over here to yell at you for playing with Kurt's feelings!" Finn was actually yelling now, and Blaine had never seen Finn so angry. At any other time than this, Blaine would be sort of touched about how much Finn had come to care for his step-brother.

"What—I am not__ playing __with Kurt's feelings!"

"Yes! Yes, you are! And you need to stop! Kurt has this idea that you're going to be his boyfriend—"

"Finn, we went over this, and I _said_—"

"I know what you said! And what I'm saying is: you_ don't know _Kurt."

The room was silent once Finn had said that. Out of everything that Finn had been throwing at Blaine in the past five minutes, this was the worst. Because it was true. Blaine really didn't know Kurt.

"You don't hear him cry himself to sleep some nights! Or the way he watches those sappy romantic movies all alone in his room! But I have to! And it makes me so angry that I can't do_ anything _about it," Finn looked around the room, as if he was looking for something to kick, and Blaine suddenly felt worried for the welfare of all of the chairs in the room.

"Finn, maybe the letters are help—"

"_No! _No, Blaine! You don't know Kurt! He cries himself to sleep every night because he's so fucking_ lonely! _And you're making it worse! You're teasing him! Just teasing this__ relationship __that you _can't give him _in front of Kurt's face—and it's just _wrong."_

Finn took a deep breath to calm himself and started heading for the door. He had the door open and was ready leave when he turned around and said one last thing to Blaine.

"I can't make you stop writing these letters and—Blaine you're my best friend and I love Kurt like my brother. I just don't to see either of you get hurt, okay? Just… Just think about what I said. I didn't tell him it was you either, so don't flip out or anything. I actually told him that he had never met you." He paused, not making eye contact with Blaine—maybe he was embarrassed at his outburst. "Just think about it."

The door closed behind Finn and Blaine stood stunned in his wake.

Finn was absolutely right. He was toying with Kurt's emotions. Kurt's very fragile emotions. What was he thinking? This was—

What _was _it?

It was stupid. Just a stupid idea born out of Blaine's nonexistent self-control and his desperation.

Blaine turned away from the door and picked up his backpack, bringing it into the kitchen. He sat himself down at the table and surrounded himself with all of his homework. He decided to start on his calculus homework since it was the most complicated.

It was complicated but it was_ sure. _Blaine knew that there was either a right or wrong answer and only one way to find it. There was no guesswork or dumb emotions involved. It was stone cold numbers. And Blaine could live with that.

OOOOOOOOOO

Even though Blaine was sure that Finn would still be pissed at him, Blaine still found himself settling down in a plush seat of McKinley High's auditorium. Blaine had promised a few days ago that he would come see the opening night of __ West Side Story, ___as _Finn was playing Tony.

Soon after, the lights dimmed and the curtain rose. The opening music started to play and Blaine clapped along with the audience as the whistle of the Jets sang throughout the auditorium.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine was thoroughly enjoying himself. He found himself smiling along with the characters and tapping his toes to the beat. The Glee club really did a wonderful job with the set and music. He bit his lip to hide a big smile when Kurt came on stage as Officer Krupke—Blaine couldn't decide if it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen, or the hottest.

Then the lights dimmed on stage, and Rachel, who was playing Maria, and Santana, who was Anita, took center stage.

A dramatic introduction with loud drums shook the entire auditorium, and Blaine could feel the vibrations in his chair and in his chest. People sat up in their seats, clearly excited by the loud music.

__A boy like that  
>Who killed your brother<br>Forget that boy  
>And find another<br>One of your own kind  
>Stick to your own kind<em>_

As soon as Santana, or Anita, started singing, Blaine was instantly reminded of the tense argument that he and Finn had shared earlier that day at his house, and he started to shift uncomfortably in his seat. He felt as if Anita was speaking right to Kurt, or something, and Blaine just sat back and watched.

__A boy like that  
>Will give you sorrow<br>You'll meet another boy tomorrow  
>One of your own kind<br>Stick to your own kind.__

__Stick to your own kind, __Blaine thought bitterly. That's probably what Finn wanted Kurt to do.

__A boy who kills cannot love  
>A boy who kills has no heart<br>And he's the boy  
>Who gets your love<br>And gets your heart  
>Very smart, Maria, very smart<em>_

Blaine was starting to feel uncomfortable in his seat. The temperature of the room seemed to have shot up twenty degrees, and he could feel a cool sweat starting to bead on his hairline and upper lip. The back of his neck tingled as every pair of eyes seemed to have settled on him._  
><em>  
><em><em>A boy like that<br>Wants one thing only  
>And when he's done<br>He'll leave you lonely  
><em>___He'll murder your love  
>He murdered mine<em>_

His breath was coming in shorter bursts now, and he leaned his head down onto his fist, taking his eyes off the stage—but the words still rang loud and clear__

__Just wait and see  
>Just wait Maria<br>Just wait and see__

Then Rachel started singing, and Blaine looked up from the floor and watched the girl. He had never been Rachel's friend before—hell, he had never had a conversation lasting more than two minutes with her, but he couldn't help but get this eerie feeling as if she were singing right to him the words that he wanted to hear.

__Oh no, Anita, no  
>Anita, no<br>It isn't true, not for me  
>It's true for you, not for me<br>I hear your words  
>And in my head<br>I know they're smart  
>But my heart, Anita<br>But my heart  
>Knows they're wrong<em>_

The lyrics should have made him feel better, but somehow it made him feel worse. Would these be the words that Kurt would have said to Finn? Let me believe in this guy who is too scared to show his face because he's embarrassed?__Probably not, __Blaine thought. His legs were shaking now, and he set a sweaty palm on his leg to calm them.

__You should know better  
>You were in love<br>Or so you said  
>You should know better<em>_

It was just a trick of the light, he knew, but Blaine felt chilled as it felt like Rachel made eye contact with him. Scolding him_. You should know better. _He suddenly felt sick, and Blaine stood up as quickly as possible, pushing through stranger's knees to get to the exit in time.

Once he pushed himself out of the auditorium, he leaned against a cool locker.__ Get a hold on yourself, Anderson. __His eyes drifted shut, and he took a deep breath. Why was this affecting him so much? It was just a damn musical.

__I have a love, and it's all that I need__

__Right or wrong,  
>and he needs me too<br>I love him, we're one  
>There's nothing to be done<br>Not a thing I can do  
>But hold him, hold him forever<br>Be with him now, tomorrow  
>And all of my life<em>_

Blaine looked over the hallways, and found that one door had been left open. Knowing that what he was doing is probably a bad idea, if someone were to see him—both for the reason he was about to raid some teachers classroom and if somebody saw what he was about to do. But the intermission had already happened, and he doubted the play would end in the next ten minutes.

He pushed open the cracked door and tiptoed inside. On the desk there was a binder, labeled with the word__ attendance. __He flipped open the cover, and behind the papers filled with rows of empty boxes with dates on the front, was a stack of blank notebook paper. He quickly ripped one off the rings and grabbed a pen. He scribbled down a part of the song, hoping he was remembering the lyrics right.

When he walked back out in the hallway, he could hear the music still playing in the auditorium. He stood idly for a second, just listening to the way Rachel and Santana's voices meshed together in harmony.

__When love comes so strong  
>There is no right or wrong<br>Your love is your life.__

The audience started clapping and Blaine was brought out of his thoughts. He walked briskly through the empty hallways of William McKinley High School. Every step was like thunder, echoing loudly through the locker-covered hall.

When he reached Kurt's locker, he pressed the paper up against the metal. He felt like he should add something else, but he couldn't think of anything. He desperately wanted Kurt to know that he did actually come to the musical, like he said he was going to. He was safe, he thought, because there was no way Kurt could pick any faces out through the dark auditorium audience.

He shoved a piece of paper through the cracks of the yellow locker for the second time today, and the butterflies appeared in his stomach. He stood there for the better part of a minute, before fleeing the scene.

Blaine didn't go back into the auditorium. He tried, but his feet stopped moving three paces from the door. He knew the ending—he knew that Tony died, and Maria lost her love. So he left the school without looking back.

**Just so there is no confusion, the next chapter will have two notes: the one that Blaine delivered during History and the one he put in the locker during the musical!  
><strong>


	19. Chapter 19

_Dear Kurt,_

_ I can't believe we're almost halfway through our senior year. It seems unfair how fast the four years of high school have gone. I swear, some days I walk into the school and I still feel like a freshman. And I guess in some respects, I really am a freshman. Call me crazy, but I still feel like I missed out on one of the big things in high school: dating. I mean, I have no idea how you feel on the subject, but some days I just feel so lonely. Everyone around us is holding hands, hugging and sharing kisses, and what am I doing? Going home to do my homework and cuddle with my dog? Not exactly the same._

_ Although, even if I did have somebody, whether it be you (should I keep my fingers crossed?) or some other poor boy I talked into dating me, it's not like we could show affection in public. Our relationship would have to be hidden. But that won't be the case any longer, right? When we're off to college, it will be a whole new setting and a whole new group of people, hopefully with their minds much more open than the likes of Lima, Ohio._

_ I guess I'll never know what the future holds until it happens right? We'll all just have to wait and see._

_ Oh, and on a completely different note, I think my mom knows. The whole thing wasn't as unnerving as I thought it was going to be, you know, her knowing, but it was weird. I said something over dinner along the lines of what movie we wanted to watch, and instead of choosing the movie with Scarlett Johanssan as the lead, I chose the one with Shia Lebeouf (because just umph ohmygod) and she just sort of looked at me weird. I don't know- maybe I'm just being my paranoid self? Sometimes I feel like I should just walk downstairs one day with a rainbow shirt with the words "I like boys" on it, but I feel like that would be the wrong way to go about coming out the closet. Maybe I'll start small, like, I'll come out to my dog. He won't care that I'm gay, he never judges me. Even if the rest of my family doesn't approve of my sexual preference, I'll always have a friendly chocolate lab to keep me company._

_ Wow this was really long, I hope you didn't get too bored reading this! _

_ -The boy who would really like to be your boyfriend but is too much of a jerk to do anything about it, although he feels like he's getting somewhere- is he doing a good job of wooing you with these notes?_

_P.S. I'm coming to see you in West Side Story tonight! Got my ticket ready! Good luck- or I guess I should say break a leg! :)_

_OOOOOOOOOOO_

_I have a love, and it's all that I need_

_Right or wrong,  
>and he needs me too<br>I love him, we're one  
>There's nothing to be done<br>Not a thing I can do  
>But hold him, hold him forever<br>Be with him now, tomorrow  
>And all of my life<em>

_When love comes so strong  
>There is no right or wrong<br>Your love is your life. _


	20. Chapter 20

**Wow, tonights Glee was very...surprising! With Karofsky being Kurt's ~secret admirer and all, it was quite entertaining for me (and can we talk about Amber's performance of _I Will Always Love You _because I was seriously sobbing on my couch by the time it was over it was beautiful omg). **

**Anyway, I promise Kurt's secret admirer in this story is *spoiler alert* NOT KAROFSKY! But I hope you enjoy this chapter:) **

The crowded hallway was noisy that morning as Finn walked up to Blaine, who had his back turned to the crowd, and grabbed his arm, making the shorter boy start. Finn put an apologetic look on his face, but before he got to apologizing, he scanned Blaine's face and said, "Wow, you look awful today." His eyes took in the puffiness of Blaine's eyes and the barely-there stubble that made Blaine look years older.

Blaine stared back at him blankly, "Oh, thanks, that's really what I wanted to hear right now." He tried to walk away, but Finn held on to his arm, begging his friend to hear him out. Blaine knew that he should probably be the one with the apologies—but he couldn't bring himself to say "I'm sorry." Finn's words had kept him up all night, mixing together with those haunting lyrics from West Side Story until his brain was just a big mess of thoughts.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I think I overreacted." Finn said, letting go of Blaine's arm and looking at his sneakers.

A part of Blaine wanted to punch Finn in the arm and say playfully, _"___Yeah, you think___?" _But he couldn't let go of what his friend said yesterday afternoon because it was so true. Finn was right—he was leading Kurt on. Blaine shook his head wordlessly, placing his eyes on his shoes, too.

"Uhm, I guess I was also kind of annoyed that you didn't go to me." Finn said softly, and Blaine looked at him curiously. He really hadn't expected this kind of confession out of Finn, and now his whole fit made more sense to Blaine now.

__Was he jealous or offended?__Blaine didn't ask.

"But I still side with myself, about the whole note thing. I mean, I know it's not any of my business, but I still think that the notes are a bad idea. One of you guys is going to get hurt—I just know it." He lowered his voice and checked over his shoulder, as if he expected to see Kurt round the corner with murder in his eyes. "And don't tell Kurt I told you that, about the whole crying thing. He doesn't know that I know, but it got really depressing after a while and it's sort of hard for me to let this happen when I know that he's just going to end up crying again. He sounds like a kitten when he cries and it's, yeah, really depressing."

"Well, I think I'm going to stop the notes anyway." Blaine said with a sigh. He saw Finn nod, looking down at the floor. Blaine hoped that things wouldn't become awkward between them too—well, it was bound to be a little awkward, due to the fact that Blaine was writing love notes to his best friend's step brother, but he hoped that their friendship would survive it.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, picking at his nails nervously. He quickly found that it was harder to say these kinds of personal things than write it down on a piece of paper.

Finn cleared his throat, "I know you don't want to talk about what was on the note but, uh." He cleared his throat again, and Blaine felt a blush on his cheeks as he recalled what exactly he had written in the last note.

"I didn't know that you were lonely. And I guess I feel bad because I didn't notice—"

"No, don't worry about it, it's my problem," Blaine interjected, shaking his head again, very aware of how his face probably looked like he had a terrible rash. "It's not your fault, just—it's fine."

Finn looked at him like he knew that it was very much __not__fine. But thankfully for Blaine, his friend dropped it and instead put on a weak smile. "So, we good?" He asked, holding his hand out for Blaine to take.

"Yeah, we're good."

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine skipped lunch that day and instead spent it in the library. He sat down at one of the wooden tables in the back, trying to get some privacy. He wrote out his last note to Kurt with a shaky hand, trying to think of a way to make this nice, and not make it seem like he was blaming Kurt.

And without revealing that someone else knew about the notes—which would be very easy for Kurt to find out that it's a friend of Finn's. Which Kurt already knew—

Blaine shook his head; his mind was running in circles. And it didn't matter who knew what now—since Kurt wasn't getting another note after this one.

The bell rang, and Blaine quickly signed the note with his usual line, folded the paper in half and dropped it in his bag, trying to not to think about how this was his last note and how good it felt to write the previous ones.

When he got to his math class, he sat in his seat silently. His eyes stared straight ahead and he briefly wondered how crazy he must look, staring into space like that.

To distract himself, he pulled out his English folder, pulling out his rough draft of his paper on global warming. He dug through his bag to find a pencil and started editing his paper, adding a few words here and there. It did a good job of distracting him, and actually made him feel a little better because he felt like this was one of the best papers he had ever written.

About five minutes later, the teacher rushed in looking very harassed. She adjusted her glasses and turned to the class, telling them to clear their desks. The class groaned collectively, but Blaine grinned a little; he knew he would ace this.

With the small grin still in place, he folded his essay and dropped it in his backpack, waiting for the quiz to be handed to him.

OOOOOOOOOO

At 1:55, Blaine approached his last period teacher, explaining to her why he had to leave early this time. His leaving early had become a regular occurrence, and the woman merely waved her hand, not bothering to hear the boy's excuse this time—which happened to be that he needed to be in the locker room early so he could get a head start on warming up for track that afternoon.

Blaine hurried through the hallway while simultaneously trying to open his backpack. As soon as he reached Kurt's locker, the backpack slipped off his shoulder and onto the ground with a loud__thump___. _Blaine checked the time on his phone, 2:00 pm.

"_Shit_." Blaine ripped open his backpack and searched frantically for Kurt's note. The bell was going to ring any second, and people would come pouring out the classrooms. "Come _on_..." Blaine muttered, tearing through the contents of his backpack. Where was the stupid note?

At last, Blaine found the folded piece of paper at the bottom of his bag. He quickly stood up and shoved the note in Kurt's locker just as the bell rang.

Blaine shouldered his backpack, feeling relief flood through his body; as soon as the kids started filing out of the classroom, Blaine was far enough down the hallway not to cause suspicion. He turned into the locker room, but not before he looked over his shoulder to see Kurt putting in the combination to his locker.

OOOOOOOOOO

Tired and aching (and not to mention cold, the insulated shirt he had bought did nothing to keep the cold wind at bay) from track practice he had that afternoon, Blaine wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep for hours and hours—days even. But he knew that he had to start typing his final draft of his English paper.

Blaine trudged up the stairs and went to his room, casting a longing glance towards his obscenely comfortable looking bed with its stupid comfortable pillows and warm sheets. Sighing, Blaine plopped his bag down on the floor and pulled out his English binder. But as he flipped through it, he couldn't find his essay.

__That's strange___, _thought Blaine, he was sure he had put it back in his binder. Setting his English binder on the ground next to him, he pulled out his Math binder, remembering how he had pulled it out to edit a little bit in the beginning of class—but to his dismay, it wasn't there either.

Then he looked in his Chemistry binder.

Then his homework folder.

And his Economics folder.

Then his History binder.

By then, Blaine was beginning to get annoyed. The paper was due tomorrow, and he knew he wouldn't have enough energy to write as good as it was all over again. His annoyance turning to panic, Blaine began to desperately unfold all the crumpled up papers at the bottom of his bag.

Instead of his English paper rough draft, Blaine found long-forgotten math homework and random notes from various classes, old quizzes and tests.

Very angry, Blaine kicked the pile of binders on the floor. They skidded across the carpet, and with them, a folded piece of notebook paper.

Feeling quite stupid for not noticing it before, and at the same time very relieved, Blaine went to pick up the paper.

But instead of looking at his English paper on the effects of global warming, Blaine was staring down in horror at his latest note to Kurt. Blaine felt his heart stop beating, the blood in his veins seemed to have frozen in place and Blaine had to instruct himself to__ breath in, breath out. __The room started spinning and his knees started to shake and _oh god._

If Kurt's note was here in his hand, what did he put in Kurt's locker that afternoon?__Oh God.__

Blaine kept staring down at the paper, eyes transfixed by the words in the lined paper. He was horrified. There was no consolation for him; Kurt would know that Blaine had written those notes by tomorrow—or maybe even tonight or __right now__—no matter what. There was no chance of a mix-up; there were no excuses for Blaine. Kurt would no doubt recognize the handwriting from the previous notes and, much more than likely, he would notice that Blaine's name was written in the top right corner of the paper.

His life was over. All the work he had done to create this image of a charming, straight, highschool football player was sent swirling down the drain. By tomorrow, everyone would know that Blaine Anderson, Corner Back of the McKinley High School Titans, was gay and had a huge, desperate, pathetic crush on the school's resident unicorn, Kurt Hummel.

And not only that, but had written love notes—__love notes__—to Kurt.

Blaine felt so stupid. How could he have been so thoughtless, so careless? To do something this dumb! __Fuck__, was all Blaine could think, standing up suddenly and kicking the frame of his bed. What was he going to do?

__There was nothing to be done!__He answered himself. Kurt definitely had the note, well, Blaine's English paper, in his possession right now, and there was no getting it back. Kurt now held in his hands Blaine's entire reputation, his thoughts; Kurt had all of Blaine's secrets.

Blaine had laid his soul bare to Kurt in those letters and he had never felt more stupid and humiliated in his life before now. Knowing that he wasn't going to get any homework done in this state of mind, Blaine crawled up in bed.

He pulled the covers over his head and shut his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the hot tears welling up in the corners of his eyes and willing himself to never wake up.

**OOOOOOOOOO**

Kurt ran up the stairs, balancing a bowl of yogurt covered raisins in one hand, a Coke Zero in another. Pinched between his lips was a folded piece of notebook paper. He bumped open the door to his room with his hip, and then kicked it shut behind him.

He dumped everything on his bed and climbed on top, crossing his legs just like he would in Elementary school. Kurt popped the pieces of raisins into his mouth, eagerly reaching for the note on the bed. With a smile on his face, he leaned back and brought out the notebook that was hidden in the drawer on his bedside table.

Inside the blue notebook were all the notes he had gotten from this secret admirer. They were all neatly placed between the pages in order, and Kurt had written the dates he had gotten them in pen on the corner of each note. There were about eight in all, and Kurt couldn't wait to add the ninth.

Written on the first page of the notebook was a list of names. There were about six of these in total, with two crossed out. Kurt read over the list carefully, thinking back to the school day where he saw all the boys.

__Timothy Green___._

__Nope,__thought Kurt, crossing the name out with pen. He had seen Timothy with his newly acquired girlfriend in the hall while he was walking to history. He hadn't even glanced Kurt's way, so he guessed that it most likely wasn't him that was writing the notes.

__Matthew Johnston__

Kurt shrugged and moves down the list; he hadn't seen Matthew today. Sometimes he was partners with the boy in Math, and he seemed to be a little friendly with Kurt, but he suspected that Matthew was like that with everybody. But Kurt added him on the list because he was one of the few boys who was nice to Kurt, and he wouldn't admit this to anybody, but he was getting a bit desperate to find out who this boy was. Honestly, at this point, he was writing down the names of all the boys at McKinley who acknowledged his existence.

But even so, there was still the possibility that this guy was admiring him from afar and Kurt had no idea who this guy is. As infuriating as that may be, Kurt continued down the list, his pen at the ready.

__James Mick__

__Alex Matnem__—Kurt shrugged, still possible.

__Blaine Anderson__

This name was crossed out, for obvious reasons. For a while, Kurt had strongly suspected that it was Blaine, just because of the way he acted around Kurt. Sometimes he was so flustered that Kurt could barely make out what Blaine was saying, and other times he was completely calm and collected. However, after meeting him in the hallway that one day, he finally concluded that it couldn't be Blaine. He was just nice.

But Kurt looked down the list, and at the end was Blaine's name written again. He had forgotten he had rewritten Blaine's name. He had written it again about twenty minutes after crossing the first one out, when he remembered the car ride to Sectionals. The way Blaine reached out and curled his bangs, saying that he looked like Link.

There was no way in hell a straight guy would do that.

And then there was the way he had sat so close to him on the way there. And there was a smile on his face when Kurt mentioned that he was going to wear a blue shirt and a scarf. He thought that this could either mean a whole lot, or it could be Kurt completely over analyzing everything in his head—it wouldn't be the first time he made up romances in his head.

But he also remembered the way Blaine shamelessly flirted with the waitress when he went out to eat with the Hudson-Hummel family once, and how his insides burned with jealousy as the girl leaned over Blaine to point something out on the menu. It's not like he was _in love _with Blaine or anything it was just—

__No, __Kurt thought. He wasn't going to go there; he had no time for a stupid pity party about how nobody wanted him. Who cares if Blaine was number one on Kurt's notebook-list? Blaine had proven his heterosexuality, and it was time that Kurt moved on to the next boy on his list—who happened to be Mitch Alere.

But In all honestly, the list did nothing to help Kurt. He truly had no idea who it could be. It could even be one of his best friends from Glee—or maybe it was just some random guy who he had never seen before in his life.

__Or it could be a cruel joke. __Kurt shook his shoulders out, keeping that thought from his mind and once again keeping the pity party at bay. He thought that since the notes were so truthful and personal, there was no way someone could have written it as a joke.

Placing the notebook down on his lap, he took the note and wrote the today's date on it. Shoving another handful of raisins into his mouth, he opened the note with one hand, wiping the other on a tissue.

His brow furrowed as he read the note; it didn't seem to be a note at all. In fact, it seemed to be an essay on... Global warming? He scanned down the page—very confused—and it was definitely about global warming; no mention of Kurt or school whatsoever, __although it is a good ___paper, he thought vaguely_. But there was a little doodle in the bottom left hand corner. Drawn in pencil was a tiny little heart encasing a 'K'—so it was definitely from his admirer.

Kurt flipped the note around, looking on the back for any type of clue as to what this was supposed to be. The back was completely blank, but when he flipped it over, something caught his eye in the top right of the paper.

__Blaine Anderson__

__English-period 3__

Kurt felt his heart stop beating, and he couldn't feel his hands. A billion thoughts were running through his head all at once, and he couldn't catch any. __Why is Blaine's name written there? Does this mean… ?__

Just to make sure, he opened the notebook with lightning speed and pulled out the first note he had received from his secret admirer, crumpling it a little in the process. Sure enough, when Kurt compared the two handwritings, they were identical. He shook out the rest of the notes onto his bed and he reread them one by one.

Kurt opened the first note and read it.

_I am ashamed. I'm so ashamed that I can't be out and proud just like you are. Sometimes I wish I was just like you, so comfortable in your own skin and not worry about what anyone else thinks. But then I remember how hard I worked to create this image of this person that isn't really me, it's only the more socially acceptable half of me. It's so comfortable where I am right now, if only a little suffocating._

He couldn't believe that this was Blaine—the boy who had seemed so happy, albeit a little quiet, but generally looked like the enjoyed his life. How was this the same person? How is this Blaine? The boy who came over to his house almost every day to help Finn with his homework?

And more importantly—how could Kurt not have noticed?

But everything was coming together now—why Blaine was so weird around Kurt. It wasn't because he was uncomfortable; it was because he was the one who was writing those notes to Kurt. The very thought of this sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He wasn't happy that Blaine was going through this, but he was happy that this was __real___. _This was a real boy writing these words—and __no wonder Finn was so weird about the notes___, _Kurt thought to himself.

He unfolded another note, not caring that they were getting out of order.

_So those years I learned that everything about me was gay._

_So I changed. I bought new clothes, watched action movies, went shopping and got a new wardrobe, I didn't tell my friends when I was having a family night and I did my homework not in secret, but I didn't bust out my advanced class homework at the lunch table like I used to._

Kurt remembered the way Blaine had helped him with his math homework that one time. __He's in advanced Calculus___, _he remembered with a faint smile. The way Blaine had so randomly come over and sat down next to him, pulling a chair close. Kurt couldn't deny that he was very attractive, and no doubt had a good body from playing football.

There was a soft stirring in the pit of his stomach when he read the slightly more provocative lines in the notes, and couldn't help but wonder what Blaine looked like when he was writing the notes. Did he bite his lip nervously—anxious about Kurt's reaction to the notes? The suggestive words seemed to have a different meaning now that Kurt could put a face to them. But most letters were full of just plain sadness that made his heart ache.

__If I'm going to be perfectly honest, this is what scares me the most. I don't know what to do. Because I really want everybody to just know that I'm gay without me having to tell them___—___and not care, but I know that everyone will care. And I will have to tell my parents, my grandparents, my siblings, the neighbors and then everyone will know. And they will talk about me. That's what bothers me the most. I don't care that I like boys, I just care that everyone else cares. I'm most afraid of what people will say about me when I'm not there.__

Kurt had almost all of the notes memorized by heart, rereading them before he went to bed each night. It was a little bit pathetic, but Kurt had always felt a wonderfully happy fluttering in his chest whenever he read the little funny compliments hidden in the heartfelt notes.

He had felt trusted, and he felt less alone. Knowing that someone was going exactly what he had gone through, and that they would turn to Kurt as someone to confide in—

__Blaine turned to me as someone to confide in. __Kurt thought, and he shifted through the rest of the notes, barely skimming over them before setting them beside him on the bed and flopping back down on his back, his fingertips lightly tracing the inch of pale skin that was being exposed where his shirt was riding up.

__Blaine turned to me as someone to confide in.___ Just the thought sent another face-splitting grin on his lips_, and he shifted through the rest of the notes, barely skimming over them before setting them beside him on the bed and flopping back down on his back, his fingertips lightly tracing the inch of pale skin that was being exposed where his shirt was riding up.

_The guy who would really like to be your boyfriend but is too much of a jerk to actually do anything about it._

Kurt smiled widely to himself, suppressing a loud giggle. The words didn't mean as much when the person was anonymous—but now Kurt __knew___. _He knew that this was a real person, that maybe Kurt wasn't dreaming or making this all up in his head. _Blaine_wanted to be his boyfriend.

_I could have a boyfriend._

A squeal made its way up his throat, and Kurt bit his fist to smother it, just in case it carried down the stairs and Finn heard it. He always thought Blaine was attractive, just like the way he had always thought Sam or Puck was attractive—it's not like he had a super huge crush on them, but he appreciated their good looks.

Maybe Blaine would be his boyfriend? But then a huge excitement-crushing wave swept over Kurt's happiness. The main problem Blaine had written about was not being able to come out. Almost every single note said how much Blaine felt like a coward, and how to he wished to be more like Kurt.

__I could help him___, _Kurt thought, staring up at the spinning ceiling fan, the smile returning to his face. _I wouldn't out him or pressure him or anything._

Kurt let out a sigh, and reached for the notes that were lying all around him. They were placed on his stomach, and once again Kurt read through them. He held them up in front of his eyes, which automatically caught his favorite parts of each letter.

__I could go on and on about how nice you look in skinny jeans__

_Or maybe you just shouldn't wear pants at all._

He laughed as he thought how the boy—_Blaine_, he reminded himself—had added how he promised he wasn't the janitor. He loved that line, it felt real, and he half expected to hear the boy's—_Blaine's_—nervous laugh through the note.

__Would he be weird about this?__Kurt wondered. He didn't really know Blaine—or at least how he acted as a person, and based on what the letters suggested, he probably wouldn't be all that into dating. Or being friends. Or anything.

Reality seemed to have finally sunk into Kurt. Blaine was more likely to be so ashamed that he would never be able to look Kurt in the eye again, or maybe he would just pretend that he had never written those notes? Maybe Blaine didn't even notice that his essay was missing, and he thought that his note had been delivered just as planned. Maybe he would never know.

What was he going to do? He didn't want to pressure Blaine by confronting him, but he didn't want to do nothing and make Blaine feel as if he didn't care about him, or the notes, or anything. How do you confront someone who told you everything about themselves under complete anonymity? Blaine obviously hadn't wanted Kurt to know who he was—no matter how much he wrote to Kurt.

The elated feeling that Kurt had before was totally gone now. He had no idea what was going to happen, and he definitely did not want to go up to Blaine and question him about it. That would probably embarrass them both to no end—and Kurt just made that impending conversation even more awkward on his side by his excited reaction to finding out that Blaine was writing those notes.

Kurt stared up at the ceiling, laying both arms down beside his body, feeling the paper of the notes crumple and bend under his weight.

__But I guess the fact that you pretty much know me better than anyone else in the entire world knows me is___—___could that be considered romantic? I sure hope so, because if it's not, then I'm failing pretty miserably at this whole love note thing.__

He all of the sudden felt overwhelmed- he was now the proud owner of all of Blaine Anderson's deepest fears, insecurities, and most protected secrets.

__I haven't had my first kiss yet.__

_I don't understand myself._

_I'm pretty much my own worst enemy._

__I just really like you.__

**I've been waiting to publish this chapter since I started this story and yeah :) please don't cause me harm I promise things work out Blaine gets smarter...eventually.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you guys for being such wonderful readers! Sorry this took a while to get out, this website was having issues with it's docx thing, so this chapter was lost in cyberspace for about five days lol. **

**And random question: how many of you guys found this story through tumblr? I started posting the chapter updates on my blog recently and was just wondering! Enjoy!**

Blaine remained in his bed the rest of the day, drifting in and out of sleep. Around five, he heard his mother and little sister come in, shutting the door behind them and calling out, "Hello! We're home!"

"Blaine!" Milly yelled, and Blaine was now fully awake, as he heard her run up the stairs. His door was slammed open and he felt her jump in his bed. He cringed and curled into himself tighter. His head was killing him, and drifting in and out of sleep with his contacts on made his eyes feel sticky and tired.

When he didn't respond to the jumping on his bed, he felt the covers being yanked back, revealing his sister's face inches away from his and her long, dark curls tickling his nose. "Milly," he groaned, trying to yank the covers back from her hands.

"Are you sick? Your face is all red." She pressed a cold hand against his forehead and he flinched away. "You don't feel all that hot. I think you may have the plague." She said wisely. "You should wash your hands because my teacher says the plague killed _two-thirds _of Eurasia."

"Europe, dear. It was Europe." He muttered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He will never understand why Milly felt the need to yell even when her conversation partner was about a foot away.

"What?" She said, sitting back on her legs.

"The plague killed two thirds of _Europe, _Milly." He said, a little louder. The sound of a second pair of feet making their way up the steps was heard, and even with his eyes closed he could see his mother standing in the doorway, giving Milly a stern look for climbing on her brother's bed with shoes still on.

She shrugged, "Same thing." She then crawled off the bed, leaving the blankets free for Blaine to yank back over his head, enveloping himself in the oh-so-good darkness.

"Blaine has the plague," announced Milly.

"Oh, he does? That could be a problem." His mother said. She too walked over to his bed and tried to pull the cover the covers out from over him, but this time Blaine was prepared. He had the comforter squeezed tightly in his fist and he just wanted them all to _go away._

"Are you sick?" She asked, and he wanted nothing more than to say, "_No duh," _but she was rubbing circles on his back, and for some reason it was making his eyes well back up with tears.

Instead he just nodded and she pushed herself up from his bed. "Well, we're going to eat dinner in an hour or two and we'll see how you feel then, okay?"

Milly was ushered out of his room by his mother, and they closed the door behind them, leaving Blaine hidden under the covers with his eyes squeezed shut, moisture leaking out the corners.

Blaine didn't know how long it was before his Dad came home; he left his cell phone in his backpack and he hadn't peeked his head out the comforter to check the time. He heard his phone vibrate with a text or reminder, but he had no desire to respond to anybody.

A few minutes after he heard his Dad arrive, he heard his door creak open quietly, and he tried to even out his breathing, trying to make it look like he was asleep. Apparently his Dad bought it, or decided to for Blaine's sake, because the door was shut once more.

He could hear muffled voices and laughter drifting up the stairs from the kitchen and he forced himself to go back to sleep. But whether it was an hour or five minutes later, his door was opened yet again, and he wondered if he would have to board the stupid thing shut to keep people out.

"We're eating dinner now, if you're feeling any better." He heard his mother say, "Do you—"

"No," he said, his voice muffled by the sheets. "I'm not hungry."

"What's wrong? Do you have a temperature? Do you want some Tylenol?"

"No."

"Come on, just come downstairs for a bit. Get some food and some water, I'll get your Dad to make you some tea, okay? Come on." She sighed, patting the lump in the bed that was her son. Slowly she pulled the covers away from his face, and he shoved his face in the pillow, groaning.

She laughed softly, "Come downstairs when you're ready, I'll go make you a plate right now."

She left the room, this time leaving the door open. Blaine sighed into his pillow—he was really hungry. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the warm bed, his neck and arms stiff from lying in an awkward position for the past four hours. Before he left the room, he looked in the mirror. His eyes weren't red and he looked a little sick, he noticed happily. He was never good at faking sick.

When he left the room he noticed that it was completely dark outside, and he could see light snow flurries sticking to the windows. The kitchen was warm and his stomach growled as he smelled the dinner his mother had cooked; he had not realized how hungry he was.

"Blaine! It's snowing, look!" Milly yelled, grabbing his hand and shoving him towards the kitchen window.

"Milly, let go of him. He's not feeling well," said his father from his chair, already eating his dinner. "And I wouldn't get my hopes up, it's supposed to heat up a little so it's not going to stick. Sorry kiddo," he said, taking in her disappointed face.

Blaine sat down for dinner, eating in silence as he listened to his family talk as usual. After he was done, he started to go back up to his room, but his mother walked up to him, and just like his little sister did to him earlier, placed a cold hand on his forehead.

"You don't have a fever," she said, now feeling the back of his neck.

He shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I don't know," he mumbled. He was just hoping his parents would take his word for it; he was no good at pretending to have a stomachache or any other illness.

"Okay," she said, "well, you look pretty terrible. Go take a shower and go to bed and we'll see how you feel tomorrow morning."

He walked slowly up the stairs, trying to make himself look pathetic. He took a warm shower and crawled back into bed with his curls still wet and he shivered as they cooled and dripped cold water down his neck. With the covers pulled tightly back around him, he shut his eyes and tried to forget everything that happened today.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, Blaine was woken up by his alarm and its stupid, obnoxious beeping. He reached an arm out and slammed the snooze button. Based on the fact that there was no excited squealing from his sister, it was not a snow day, and he shut his eyes. There was no way he could go to school today. He just couldn't do it.

He forced himself out of bed and down the stairs, where his mother was sitting at the island counter. "Hey," she said, taking in his puffy eyes and hair sticking everywhere. "Aren't you a sight?" She smiled, but it was quickly dropped. "You still not feeling better?"

Blaine shook his head, leaning down on his elbows on the counter, not making eye contact.

"Well," his mother sighed. "I guess you can go back up to bed. I'm not going to make you go to school."

Feeling relieved, Blaine made his way back up the stairs and crawled back into bed, grabbing his phone from his backpack on his way. He flipped open the screen and it showed that he had three messages: two from Finn and one from Chris, one of the guys on his track team.

He opened the ones from Finn first, laughing a bit as he saw what they said. "_hey_ _dude whats a ribosome?" _and then, "_fine I hate you now I have to go look on google I see how it is."_

The one from Chris just told him about the practice tomorrow, or today, and Blaine quickly opened a reply, saying that he was not going to make it because he wasn't feeling well.

He closed his phone and laid back on the pillows, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He didn't feel tired anymore—he had probably slept more the past two days than he has since he started high school.

About thirty minutes later, he heard his sister awaken and get ready for school. He had just been drifting off to sleep when he heard her pad into his room.

"Blaine?"

He didn't answer, but that never deterred her. She walked into his room anyway, patting his bed, and he was just about to ask what she was doing when he felt a something large jump onto his bed and lay down across his feet.

"Mom says you're still not feeling well so I brought Flops in here to keep you company. He makes me feel better when I'm sick." She said, now petting Flops behind his large ears, "Now, be good!" she told the dog.

"Bye Blaine!" she called, running back down the stairs. He then heard her and his mom exit, yelling up the stairs that they would be back normal time if they were lucky, around four. Flops sighed, and Blaine looked at him, smiling at the wet, droopy eyes of his old dog. "Hey, boy," he whispered, scratching behind the dog's ears. Blaine remembered reading somewhere that petting a dog would make you feel better, and as he laid there in his bed with his old dog across his legs, he had to admit he did feel a little better. Flops seemed to sense Blaine's gloomy mood and moved a paw on his leg, as if he was petting him back, his eyes wide and staring at Blaine.

The house became silent, and he was wide awake—and he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the question of what was Kurt doing right now? What class is he in? Has be told anybody? Does Finn now yet?

As if right on cue, Blaine's cell phone vibrated with a new message from Finn. He flipped the phone open and read. _Yo_ _dude where are you? You sick or something?_

Obviously Finn was unaware of what happened yesterday. He typed out a response just like the one to his track teammate, but his finger hovered over the send button, and he added a question. He asked if Finn could come over today, right after school.

Five minutes later he got a new message from Finn. It was short and full of typos; Finn was probably trying to text in class, his phone between his knees or under the desk. _/yeah sure dde bt I got conditngn fo basebll so i'l be over at five? feel better dude._

_Thanks finn. _He typed out, and then threw his phone back down on the bed. He felt restless, and he wanted desperately to go out for a run, but it was freezing cold outside and the treadmill in the basement was broken.

He settled on doing fifty crunches, lying flat on his back on the floor by the bed. Then he did some push-ups, and he got about to forty when he collapsed, his face squished into the coarse fabric of the rug on his floor. He couldn't keep still, because all he could think about was that _stupid _note and how _oh my god Kurt knows._

He quickly pushed himself up, as if keeping himself moving would make him forget everything. He puttered around the house aimlessly for what seemed like hours, but when he checked the time, it had only been twenty minutes.

Sighing in frustration, Blaine threw himself onto the living room couch, grabbing for the remote sitting on the armrest. He flipped through channels, pausing on each one for a few seconds before getting bored. He turned to the LOGO channel, his finger on top of the up button, but he didn't press it. He generally didn't allow himself to watch this channel, he didn't know why. It's not like it was going to make him any more or less gay. He just sort of had this paranoia that seemed to carry onto every aspect in his life. Blaine had made up ridiculous ideas in his head where his parents had a list of what channels he watches every day, or that they were going to burst through the door at any moment, their fingers pointing accusingly at him, "_ah ha!_"

But he kept it on that channel, ending up watching some movie. He had no idea was it was about, and he wasn't paying attention well enough to find out, but all he knew was that it was about a gay couple living in some city; who knows whether it was a comedy or drama or what. There was a hot, curling feeling in his stomach as he watched intently as the two male characters kissed each other. His curiosity was grabbed, and Blaine sat up straighter, his eyes wide as he watched the television screen. He felt like a thirteen year old again, when he watched an episode of _Queer as Folk _on his laptop late at night. The thrill and longing came back to him full force.

When they pulled apart, Blaine let out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. He very much wanted them back on the screen to continue kissing and holding, and Blaine felt his fingers itch. He wanted someone to hold him like that and return the gesture.

He quickly turned off the television, throwing the remote across the couch. He had been sitting with his legs crossed under each other with his back ramrod straight. The movie image still fresh in his mind, he laid down on the couch, pulling his legs up to his chest and replaying the scene over and over again in his head.

OOOOOOOOOO

Just like they said, Blaine's mother and sister were back at a little after four. The slam of the door shook Blaine violently awake from his sleep, his leg kicked, and he realized groggily that he was still lying on the couch.

He padded into the kitchen where his mother was. "You going to tell me what's wrong?" She asked, sorting through papers that she had pulled out of her briefcase. Milly was nowhere to be seen, probably up in her room.

"Nothing's wrong," Blaine said, trying to feign innocence.

"I know you're not sick, Blaine. Did you not finish something? An assignment?"

_You could say that._

Blaine shook his head and sat down at the counter, playing with the corners of his mother's papers, rolling them in tight scrolls and watching them unfurl.

"Please don't do that," she said, pulling the papers away from her son's fingers. "Is it someone at school?" Then she paused, a look of pity that made Blaine feel extremely uncomfortable. "Did something happen?"

"No," he insisted, although his voice shook a little.

"Honey, if—"

"Mom! Stop!" Blaine said loudly, getting up from his chair. He didn't know why he was reacting so strongly to this, but he wanted her to stop speculating and from the look on her face Blaine had this eerie feeling that she knew. That she knew everything. "I'm fine, nothing happened."

He turned on his heel and marched up the stairs into his room. Milly was sitting on his bed, petting Flops, who was still lying on a couple of pillows.

"Did he keep you company? He looks comfortable on your bed."

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, running a hand through his hair. "He kept me company, thanks."

"Okay! Well I'm going to take him back now. I decorated a bow for him at school! Flops! Come on!" She was pulling him by the collar, but he wouldn't budge off of Blaine's bed. His eyes looked like they were desperately pleading for Blaine to stop this horrible, horrible fate, but Blaine smiled sadly as the old dog was led out of the room by his litter sister, chattering happily about the purple bow that would look _so awesome _with his collar.

OOOOOOOOOO

Finn came over around five thirty, and from his room Blaine heard him and his mother make small talk downstairs in the kitchen before he was sent up to Blaine's room.

"Yo, dude." Finn greeted, walking into the room. "What's—"

"Close the door," Blaine said, sitting on his bed with his legs crossed. He was still in the clothes he lazed around in all day, a plain blue t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

"Okay," said Finn suspiciously, but he nonetheless closed the door behind him. "You alright?"

Blaine jumped right into it. "Kurt knows."

"Oh." Finn looked surprised, and he sat down next to his friend on the bed. "How? I mean, did you tell him, or..?"

Blaine snorted, looking down at the comforter and running his finger along the seam. "No. I actually—I, uh, placed my English paper in his locker. Instead of a note."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"That blows, man," was all Finn said. It actually made Blaine feel better, that Finn didn't seem to want to make a big deal about it. He didn't seem mad or upset, even after what he said to Blaine earlier that week.

"Yeah, it sort of does."

Finn looked at him, tilting his head slightly to the side, as if he had never seen anything like Blaine before. "Are you okay? You don't seem all that upset about it."

"No, I'm fine. I guess. I sort of got all my anger or whatever out yesterday." Blaine explained, abandoning his invisible drawing on his bedspread. He sighed, "I'm never going to be able to show my face at school again, am I?"

"What do you mean? Kurt won't tell anybody. I mean, he hasn't even told me. And I'd be the first one he'd tell if he was going to share this. I mean, he's probably pissed at me, since I told him that he had never met you before."

The room was silent as the two boys sat there side by side. It was Blaine who broke the silence.

"I just—I really liked those notes." He whispered, his voice cracking horribly. Before he could stop himself, his mouth kept talking.

"I was just really lonely and—" his top lip quivered, and he tried to cover it with his hand. His eyes started to water, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground. He was not going to have a weird breakdown in front of his best friend. But then he realized that Finn wouldn't judge him, and he let out a sob, his shoulders heaving with the effort from it.

Finn looked like a deer caught in headlights, slipping a tentative arm around Blaine's shaking shoulders.

"I don't even know why I'm crying," Blaine choked out, his face now buried in Finn's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Finn shifted on the bed so that he wasn't at such an awkward angle. He hushed Blaine and rubbed a hand on his shoulder, and Blaine thanked God or whatever deity that was in up in the sky that Finn wasn't completely freaked out.

They sat like that until Blaine's sobs reduced to small sniffles, his eyes still puffy and stinging from the hot tears. He pulled away from Finn, wiping his face quickly with his hand.

"I'm sorry, that was weird. I'm such a fucking _loser," _Blaine said, but Finn told him to shut up.

"You're not. I mean, it's understandable. And I guess now I really feel like a shitty friend—for not noticing and for getting mad at you over those notes. But," he paused, bumping his shoulder against Blaine's, "if there was anyone that you wanted to find this out, it would be Kurt. He won't tell anyone. And if he does, I'll throw him in the dumpster, step-brother or not."

Blaine let out a watery laugh and wiped his eyes again after some stray tears leaked from his eyes.

"And not to be insensitive or whatever, but I didn't know that we were going to be you know, crying and stuff, but I brought my homework and I understand if you don't—"

"No," Blaine cut across, smiling. "Bring me your homework, seriously. Just—anything to distract me. Is it Biology again? Or Math?"

Finn slid off the bed, "Math." He grabbed his backpack by the door and brought it over to the bed, dumping its contents all over. He flipped through a binder and handed Blaine a packet.

"I have to get all that done by the day after tomorrow."

Blaine flipped through it, it was easy stuff. "Alright, well, let's get started."

OOOOOOOOOO

Finn left Blaine's room, leaving the door open. He followed his friend out the door, but not out the house.

"Bye, dude," Finn said, his backpack on his shoulder. He took an awkward step toward Blaine, and Blaine didn't know what was going on until Finn wrapped an arm around him in a one-arm hug.

"Thanks," said Blaine softly, still a little embarrassed about his little crying fest he had on his friend's shoulder.

He thought vaguely about getting something to eat when he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, his mother standing in the hallway, a basket of laundry in her arms. The smile melted off his face.

"Did Finn help?" She asked in a strange tone of voice. Her expression looked pained.

Blaine suddenly became aware of how he had shut the door behind them, something they usually don't do at Blaine's house. He realized how this must look to his mother. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her eyes narrowed.

"You guys were in there for a while—"

"Mom, it's not like that—" he said. How could she be thinking this? Finn had been coming over for years, ever since they met freshman year. His mom _loved _Finn.

"Maybe Finn shouldn't come over anymore," she said quietly, and Blaine felt as if he had been stabbed in the gut. She walked past him, her eyes straight forward, and the knife in his stomach seemed to twist, causing an unbearable amount of pain.

"Mom—" he began, but the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to yell at her that it really, _really _wasn't like that but she was already past him and going down the stairs. "Mom," he repeated quietly. She rounded the corner and disappeared, leaving Blaine standing at the top of the stairs, alone.

Blaine took a shaky breath and retreated back into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He leaned his head up against the door, shutting his eyes. His breathing got faster, and Blaine couldn't stop the hot tears from leaking, and before he knew it, he had slid down the floor with his knees up to his chest and his face buried into his knees, stifling his sobs.

_This wasn't supposed to happen._

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine went to school the next day. He had walked out the door without so much as a good morning or goodbye to his mother, and she seemed content not to talk to him either. That just made him feel worse.

The morning classes seemed to go by in a haze, and all of the sudden he was sitting at lunch. He wasn't with the Glee kids, obviously, but with his track teammates, who were all talking excitedly about the match coming up on Thursday. He halfheartedly contributed, then left early claiming he was still a little sick.

When he left the cafeteria, he could feel a pair of eyes on him. He didn't have to look around to see who they were, because he just knew. And this actually made him feel sick. He ran to the bathroom, locking himself in the stall, his head leaned back against the door.

He stayed there until the bell rang, and he walked as slowly as possible to his French class. The class he had with Kurt. His heart was pounding the whole way there, and he didn't know what to expect. His palms were sweaty, and his head felt like a balloon, filled with hot air and keeping his thoughts airy.

The class filled in and he kept his eyes straight forward as Kurt walked into the classroom. Once again, he felt eyes staring at him, even when they sat down. The back of Blaine's neck felt like it would catch on fire.

Mademoiselle Katen started the lesson, and Blaine was not taking any of it in. All he could think about was _Kurt. _Kurt, who was two rows away from him, boring a hole through Blaine's back and life.

He spared a look over his shoulder, only to find himself looking straight into Kurt's eyes. He turned away as quickly as he could, his breathing labored, and he couldn't keep his hands still. He felt embarrassed tears well up in his eyes and he was _not going to freak out._

Blaine shoved his hand in the air, asking if he could go to the nurse because he wasn't feeling well.

"O_ui_ _vous pouvez, Monsieur Anderson._"

Blaine rushed out of the classroom as quickly as he could. He didn't stop running until he reached his car, and he didn't even care that he was skipping the rest of the day as he climbed into the driver's seat and started the ignition.

OOOOOOOOOO

That evening, Blaine got a text message from Finn while he was laying on his bed, wallowing in self-pity. _Yo _ _can I get a ride tomorrow morning? The car like blew up or something and now it's in the shop._

Blaine quickly thumbed out a response without thinking. _Yeah sure dude np_

Then he got another one back really fast, as if Finn had sent it right after the first one without waiting for Blaine's reply. _If you don't want to be in the same car its okay we'll find another ride_

For a few seconds, Blaine had no idea what the hell Finn was talking about. Did he think he would be weird being with him in the same car? But—oh. Blaine groaned, giving a ride to Finn pretty much meant giving a ride to Kurt, too.

It was the last thing he wanted to do, and he didn't want to leave Finn walking to school in the below freezing temperatures in the morning. And it would be beyond rude if he gave a ride only to Finn, and not to Kurt.

Making up his mind, Blaine typed out a message and hit send. _No its fine I have to see him at some point right._

OOOOOOOOOO

True to his word, Blaine showed up at Finn and Kurt's house around seven, honking the horn once and sitting back in his seat, his stomach churning with nerves. He didn't know why he was so nervous; he knew that he would have Finn as a buffer.

The step-brothers climbed into the car, Finn in the passenger seat and Kurt in the back. The whole ride there was unbearably awkward as Finn tried to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. Blaine was half listening and half trying not to wreck the car.

Whenever he looked into the rear-view mirror, he saw Kurt staring out the window, and twice they made eye contact, both of them looking away quickly.

Blaine was never so glad to see the school that morning.

OOOOOOOOOO

The ride home was the same. Unbearably tense, and this time Finn didn't even try to talk.

When they arrived at their house, Kurt exited the car, thanking Blaine for the ride.

"No problem," Blaine mumbled, his eyes set on the steering wheel. He swore he heard Kurt sigh, and then slam the car door a little bit harder than necessary, but who was Blaine to judge? Kurt had probably been expecting a little bit more recognition from the man who had been writing him this whole time, and all Blaine could bring himself to do was mumble very embarrassed words, his eyes downcast.

They watched Kurt get into the house, raising his hand in one last wave before shutting the front door behind him.

"Well, that was _so _awkward, dude." Finn observed, a smile beginning to form on his lips and Blaine knew that he was totally laughing at his expense.

"_Oh my god, _shut up." Blaine said, banging his head against the steering wheel. "I just don't know what to say to him! I'm so stupid!"

Finn nodded, still smiling. "A little bit. But that's cool. Now let's go back to your place, I need some of those cookies your mom made."

Blaine's mother had always had a specialty cookie: Peanut butter chocolate chip, and whenever Finn knew that they were at Blaine's house, he would eat almost the entire pan. Blaine sort of wanted to smack Finn for hogging all the cookies, but his mother thinks it's hilarious.

_Thought it was hilarious, _Blaine's mind reminded him.

"Right, you're going to have to leave before five though." Blaine said, his voice flat.

"Wow, dude, I'm feeling the love. Why? You got practice or something?"

Blaine shook his head and blurted out. "My mom thinks we're dating."

"_What?" _Finn spluttered, turning in his seat to look at Blaine properly. "You are joking. That is not possible. What the _fuck."_

"Yeah, that's pretty much my thought process too," Blaine said sarcastically. "After you came over the one day she's been really weird, and I think…" he trailed off.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to leave at five then." Finn said, his arms crossed on his chest.

It became quiet, and Blaine knew that Finn was really upset. Blaine's mother and he always got along real well.

"That's fucked up," Finn said suddenly. Blaine flinched; Finn cursed a lot when he was really upset.

Blaine just nodded, his eyes on the road.

"You know, even if we _were_ dating she shouldn't care—I mean, you're her _son. _The hell does it matter if you're making out with me or some random girl?" Finn huffed, staring angrily out the window. "If she has a problem with it, then..." He stopped, looking at Blaine a little warily.

"Thanks," Blaine said. He felt like he was saying that a lot to Finn lately, and maybe he should appreciate having Finn as a friend more. "Thanks for saying that."

"No problem, dude."

OOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, Blaine pulled into Finn and Kurt's driveway again, waiting patiently as they rushed out of the house, half eaten cereal bars in hands and shoving notebooks into backpacks.

"Hey, dude," Finn said, dumping his stuff onto the floor in front of his seat. "What's up?" He lowered his voice, "How was everything last night?"

"It was fine, I guess. Nothing really happened. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." Blaine said, putting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway, very pointedly keeping his eyes away from Kurt. He couldn't help but feel like Kurt knew exactly what they were talking about.

The whole ride he felt the back of his neck burning with embarrassment, and like the day before, he was never so delighted to see the ugly brick school.

OOOOOOOOOO

His day was going fine, until Finn came up to him after lunch when he was standing by his locker. He looked extremely guilty, and Blaine felt his stomach plummet. There was really only one thing Finn could have done to Blaine that he needed to feel guilty about.

"Finn," he said urgently, "what's wrong?"

"I'm _so _sorry," he said, leaning against the locker beside Blaine. "I forgot I had a make-up this quiz this afternoon."

Blaine tilted his head, because, just—_what? _"Uh, why would you feel you have to apologize for that? You know I completely support you in making up tests?"

Finn shook his head, as if Blaine was missing something. "Can you give Kurt a ride home today, too?"

And, _oh. _ Blaine swallowed thickly, could he survive that? _Nonononono, _his mind screamed at him.

"I guess," said Blaine, although it made him feel a little sick inside. Finn didn't look that much better either, he looked at Blaine earnestly and said, "Dude, if you really don't want to give him a ride home, it's completely okay. He'll understand."

_He'll understand._

So, Kurt definitely knew it was Blaine, and he would _understand _if Blaine was too cowardly to give him a ride home. With his pride a little deflated, Blaine nodded decisively.

"Yeah, it's totally fine."

Finn nodded his head, still looking a little unsure. "Well, if it's okay with you," he said slowly. The bell rang, and he pushed himself off of the lockers. "Are you sure you're good with this?" He asked one last time.

"Finn, seriously. I'll be fine."

OOOOOOOOOO

That afternoon, Blaine walked towards his car as slowly as possible. He wanted to delay the inevitably awkward car ride that he was going to have with Kurt.

Kurt was standing next to the passenger door of Blaine's car, his sunglasses shielding his eyes, and it made Blaine uncomfortable—he couldn't tell where Kurt was looking. The tiny hairs on his forearm stood up, and he tried to dig his keys out of his backpack.

In his nervousness, he ended up dropping the keys to the ground. He picked them up, his face now flushed a bright red, and continued toward Kurt. As he neared, it became clear to Blaine that Kurt was not actually looking at him, but at the hockey team, who were all standing around a car to his right, sending threatening glances at Kurt's way.

The car unlocked with a loud beep, and Blaine considered opening the door for Kurt—but he knew that would be ridiculous. Kurt was obviously creeped out by the notes that he had sent, as Kurt had not made eye contact with him the entire week Blaine was back at school. Granted, this was partly Blaine's fault too, but Kurt didn't seem to want to discuss the notes.

He climbed in the car himself, waiting until Kurt had his door closed and started the car. His hand rested on Kurt's headrest, and he could feel the tension rise in the car as his fingers gripped the seat tightly as he backed out of his space.

When they pulled out of the school, Blaine took a left to the Hudmel household. He pressed on the brakes sharply, seeing that cars were not moving at all. A yellow sign answered the unspoken question: road work.

_No._

Blaine cursed his luck. Why did this always happen to him? He used to believe in karma—but he was ready to throw that out the window. He was a good person, and yet, despite all that, a fifteen minute drive to Kurt's house just became a thirty minute one.

_Why does this happen to me?_

Blaine leaned his forehead against the window, shivering as the cool glass made contact with his skin. He kept his eyes on the road, attempting to look oblivious to the furtive glances Kurt was sending this way. This was probably just as awkward for Kurt as it was for him, Blaine realized.

"It's okay," Kurt said softly, breaking the silence. "You know, to feel alone sometimes."

Blaine ignored him. He wasn't ready to have this conversation. He wasn't ready for _anything. _He didn't want to have a heart to heart with Kurt, or Finn, or his parents. The childish part of him just wanted everybody to just _know, _and not ask questions. Just live with it.

But he knew that was never going to happen, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had no idea what he should say.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt asked tentatively.

Blaine shook his head, and then felt terrible. He had reached out to Kurt for help in a form of letters, but now that Kurt was actually in the flesh, trying to help Blaine, he was pushing him away.

But there was pity in Kurt's eyes, and he had never felt more exposed in his life. The boy who knew all of his secrets was now sitting beside him, and Blaine thought this would never happen. He felt like he was naked, like those terrible dreams where you show up to school without a thread of clothing on your body. He had the prickly feeling that Kurt was seeing straight through him.

"I know this is embarrassing for you,"—_embarrassing would be the understatement of the year, _Blaine thought bitterly—"but what you said in those letters was real, and you can't keep hiding yourself from everybody your whole life." Kurt tried again, looking down at his lap where his hands were wound tightly together.

"That's what I've been doing, and it's worked out okay," Blaine said bitterly, his voice sounded strained from holding back tears. He was not going to cry in front of Kurt. This was not a good week for him; this would have been the third time he cried this week.

"That's not what it sounded like," Kurt said softly.

There was silence in the car once more. They moved a couple of feet on the road, and Kurt was silent, his back straight against the car seat. He looked out the window, watching the people in the car next to them. A couple, smiling and holding hands over the center console, and he quickly looked away.

There was a click of the turn signal, and it seemed to fill the car with deafening noise.

Blaine read through all his notes in his mind, his face flushing with mortification as he remembered all the things he wrote. Some things he would never have the audacity to say out loud—and the words seemed to be screaming in his head so loud he wouldn't be surprised if Kurt could hear them.

"I can help you, if you want." Kurt tried again, his eyes glued to his lap. His neck was a dull pink, and the fact that Kurt was embarrassed made Blaine feel that much worse.

"I don't want help," said Blaine stubbornly. And then, without his permission, his chest gave a wracking sob. Before he could stop them, the tears leaked out of his eyes. He always had a weakness where once he started crying, he couldn't stop himself. The dam holding back everything was broken.

He started sputtering out words that didn't even make sense to him, they were just broken fragments of sentences, and judging by the look on Kurt's face, he wasn't catching any of it.

Kurt was then searching frantically in his bag, pulling out a packet of tissues and handing one to Blaine, who took it gratefully.

"Maybe you should pull off the road," Kurt suggested quietly, looking at the cars all around them.

Blaine nodded and pulled into a gas station parking lot. He parked on the side, and if he looked straight ahead all he could see was the brick wall of the attached convenience store. Kurt had his hands folded in his lap once again.

"Sorry—"

"If you want—"

They both spoke at the same time, and they looked at each other and both let out a nervous laugh. "You go," Blaine said, sniffling and wiping his eyes with the tissue again.

"Oh, uh. I was just saying that, if you want, I could give you my phone number. You know, in case you want to talk or whatever." Kurt suggested, a slight blush on his cheeks.

Blaine stared at him blankly. His mind seemed to short circuit and he couldn't find his mouth. He shook his head, and then nodded, but Kurt was already apologizing.

"I'm sorry, that was a little uh—if you don't want it, that's fine. I just assumed,"

"No, no! I want it," Blaine said, finding his voice. He pulled out his phone and shoved it into Kurt's hand maybe a little too eagerly, but Kurt took it in stride and entered his phone number before handing it back to Blaine with a soft smile.

"Right, thanks." Blaine took the phone back and placed it back into his pocket. "I guess we should… go back now. I promise I won't start crying again," he laughed awkwardly.

Kurt smiled warmly and bit his lip, "Yeah, okay."

Blaine got back onto the road. The air in the car wasn't as tense anymore, but Blaine still felt as if he were on display to Kurt. And after all, wasn't he? He even came with his own descriptions, hand delivered by the person on exhibit.

They arrived at Kurt's house, and Kurt picked up his bag slowly. Before getting out of the car, he turned to Blaine.

"I really liked them." He said quietly, his face flushed, and Blaine thought he was supposed to be the one completely embarrassed. "The notes, I mean. They were nice."

"Right," said Blaine, smiling nervously, his lips still quivering slightly.

"Cool, uh. If you need anything just text me or—"

"Yeah! Definitely!" Blaine said, nodding. He wanted to leave so badly; this was so embarrassing.

Kurt nodded once more before opening the car door. He smiled one last time and made his way up the path to his front door, turning around once to wave at Blaine, who waved back awkwardly.

Blaine watched him enter the house, and then drove away quickly. His hands and breathing were still shaky and his nose felt stuffed up from the little bit of crying he had done. He also smiled a little. He felt a little better, now that he knew Kurt wasn't scared or freaked out about the notes. And even if Blaine acted like a total freak and started crying, Kurt was still so nice to him.

_This is good, _he thought, turning on the radio. Maybe he and Kurt could be friends and then...

_Then what?_


	22. Chapter 22

**I am alive! Yeah, I'm not even going to make an excuse for taking FOREVER to get this chapter out. I suck:(**

**Enjoy the (very late) chapter!**

There seemed to be a permanent empty message open to Kurt on Blaine's phone. He would open a message, type out some random message—usually along the lines of what his notes said. It would just be some random thing that he liked about Kurt, or maybe something he saw in the hall that bothered him.

Or how his mother was now ignoring his existence.

Things with Blaine's mother had not gotten any better over the past few days. Blaine honestly had no idea what he had done. He knew that it had something to do with Finn being in his room (obviously) but Blaine had never gone more than a day without speaking to his mother. It didn't even seem like she was even trying, too—that's what hurt the most. The way her eyes passed right over him at the dinner table, in the car, and around the house. It was effortless.

Blaine had told Finn that things with his mother had gotten better. He felt immediately guilty after telling this lie to Finn—but he told himself that he didn't want to bother his friend, who was now feeling enormous pressure from his girlfriend, Rachel, for who-knows-what now.

No one except Blaine's father knew about the tense circumstances between the son and mother. Milly took no notice of it, unobservant as a little girl could be. But his father watched with narrowed eyes the way his wife and son gave each other the cold shoulder day after day.

Today, a cold—no, _freezing_—December morning, Blaine was walking into the school, his hands shoved deep into his pockets with his palms against his legs, trying to conjure up some warmth. His mind was completely preoccupied and his attention seemed to be sliced equally in thirds. _Kurt. His mother. Grades._

The warmth of the school made Blaine's shoulders relax in the slightest, and with a small, relieved smile, Blaine pulled his hands from his pockets and placed them on their usual spot, thumbs hooked through the two shoulders straps of his backpack**.**

He nodded and smiled to some people who greeted him, but when he saw Kurt at his locker, he immediately took a detour.

It was something he couldn't even explain to himself, the way he was back to avoiding Kurt. Four days have already passed since the ride in Blaine's car, and he had yet to text or even communicate with Kurt in any way. The feeling of complete humiliation hadn't completely faded away and he could barely make eye-contact with himself in the mirror, let alone Kurt.

_I think I liked the notes better, _Blaine thought bitterly- mourning the loss of his privacy, before closing his locker and heading off to his first period.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine ate lunch with his track team that day. He threw himself into a discussion with his team to keep his thoughts from straying into dangerous—and sometimes downright depressing—thoughts.

They had their first big track meet tomorrow, and they needed this win if they wanted to make it to regionals this year. Even though Blaine didn't care for track as much as he did football, he still wanted to see his teammates succeed. He joined track more-or-less to keep in shape.

The team had their heads together, talking about moves and stretches until Blaine couldn't take it anymore. Finally, the bell seemed to have pity on him, and he hurriedly picked up his stuff and hurried out the lunchroom. The back of his neck was burning again with an intense stare—and he knew exactly where it was coming from, and he made sure not to look.

In History class, Blaine took his seat next to Finn, who was doodling on a spare sheet of paper.

"Hey, dude." Finn greeted him, not looking up from his drawing.

Blaine set his bag on the desk with a loud thump, sighing as he lowered himself into his chair. "Hey, Finn."

Without preamble, Finn said loud and clear: "Kurt said you're ignoring him."

Blaine quickly leaned over and shushed Finn, waving his hands up and down. How could Finn be so obvious? Talking about Kurt in the middle of class! "Finn! What is wrong with you?" He hissed angrily.

Finn just shrugged, "No one is listening. And seriously, what's up with you guys?"

Blaine relaxed a little, but still felt tense. Finn was right—no one was paying them the least bit attention. He waved his hand loosely. "I don't even know." He exhaled, pulling his eyes away from Finn's drawing to the board in front of the classroom. He laughed somewhat bitterly, "I really don't even know what I am doing."

"Well," Finn shrugged again, tucking his masterpiece safely in his folder. "You know. This is new to you, I guess. Right? And this is new to Kurt. So, don't get yourself all worked up."

Blaine just nodded, keeping his eyes carefully trained on the board, even though he felt Finn's own eyes peering at him.

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine was pushing his way through the crowd of students at the end of the day when he heard the telltale _slam _of a shoulder against the lockers. He didn't need to see Kurt to know it was him. Blaine's breathing quickened, and he mindlessly held his hand up for the two football players to give him a high-five as they passed.

An enormous wave of guilt passed over him and for a moment he wished that he were the one getting slammed in lockers. He wanted to take every single punch, slushie, and push that was ever directed at Kurt.

With a heavy heart, Blaine passed by Kurt, carefully pushing himself to the other side of the hallway so Kurt didn't see him. There he waited, pretending to type out a text message on his phone. His fingers were shaking just slightly.

When most of the students had passed, Blaine could see Kurt still bent over, picking up papers from the floor and trying to reorganize them in his folders and binders. Blaine took a deep breath and walked over to him, leaning down also and picking up a piece of paper that Kurt had missed.

A little surprised, Kurt looked up at Blaine. "Hi. So you are alive, I was worried I would never hear from you again." Kurt's tone was playful, but Blaine knew that there was definitely some hurt feelings and he guiltily rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh, hi." Blaine mumbled back, ducking his head a little so Kurt wouldn't see the _stupid _blush working its way up his neck and cheeks.

Kurt silently took the paper Blaine was offering and placed it in a folder.

They both stood up, Blaine watching while Kurt closed his locker and turned back to him. "So," he said, his long fingers twisting together in front of him, stylish jacket looking soft, and Blaine had a sudden urge to touch it.

"So," Blaine repeated, and the suffocating atmosphere of awkwardness took him over, and his brain was working madly just to think of something to say. Before he could stop himself, his mouth blurted out the first thing that his mind thought of.

"I like your jacket," said Blaine abruptly. "It looks, um, soft. And warm." There was already another warm feeling on his face, but instead of his mouth staying shut and keeping himself from further embarrassment, his mouth kept talking. "It's cold outside, so it must be um…"

Blaine recoiled at the strange look that Kurt was giving him, and he wanted nothing more than to go crawl in a hole and _die oh my god._

But Kurt seemed to have recovered quickly and nodded, "Thank you. It's really soft, it's cashmere. I got it from the new Macy's collection." He held his arm out, "Feel it. It's _so _soft."

Blaine really just wanted to get out of there and never have to come out in public again, but Kurt still had that soft smile on his face, and Blaine found himself returning it tenfold. He gently touched the sleeve of Kurt's jacket, running a finger down the line of Kurt's arm, feeling the soft cashmere under his touch. Blaine could have been imagining it, but Kurt seemed to lean in at the touch, pushing himself into Blaine's hand.

He felt a familiar warmth creep into his belly and he quickly drew his hand away. When he looked back at Kurt, his eyes seemed to be wider, and darker—and Blaine sincerely hoped that Kurt was feeling the same feeling. The same warm feeling that was making his knees shake and his breath quicken.

Blaine backed away from Kurt, looping his hands through the straps of his backpack. He quickly muttered, "See you later," before racing out the door and into his car.

OOOOOOOOOO

That evening Blaine lay on his bed, his hands folded behind his head, and his eyes wide open and staring at the slowly revolving fan. His phone lay open next to him, an empty text message to Kurt was open.

He couldn't push the feeling that he had shared with Kurt that afternoon from his mind. Just thinking about it made his spine shiver and goose bumps pop up on his arms. He vaguely wondered what Kurt was doing right now—but that was stupid, he could find out exactly what Kurt was doing right now, as he had the boys phone number.

All Blaine had to do was pick up the phone, type out a quick message, (of if he was really daring, a quick phone call) and Blaine could know what Kurt was doing, what Kurt had felt earlier that day. But Blaine wasn't feeling that courageous, and the way his mother ignored him again this afternoon wasn't making him feel so sure about pursuing Kurt.

But the feelings for Kurt seemed to overpower the feeling that his mother had evoked, and Blaine once again picked up his phone, staring at the empty screen. His thumbs ran over the keys, feeling the smooth bumps. He almost jumped out of his skin when he received a text message, his phone vibrating.

It ended up being a text message from the track team captain, reminding him to be at McKinley at five tomorrow for the track meet.

And he had it—Blaine smiled to himself. He could invite Kurt to the track meet! It didn't seem like a date, but more like a friend-seeing-a-friend sort of thing. And not that Blaine would ever admit it, but occasionally he did like showing off.

Before he could stop himself, Blaine quickly typed out a message to Kurt and sent it. All in less than twenty seconds. He threw his phone to the end of the bed, feeling ridiculous as he curled his legs in towards his chest. After two minutes of lying there, Blaine started to feel stupid—what was he thinking inviting Kurt to his track meet?

Then the phone buzzed, and Blaine sat up straight. He started at the phone, as if willing it to read the message out loud. It seemed almost unbearable to lean over and open the text. What if it said that Kurt never wanted to see Blaine again and he was stupid for even thinking for a second that Kurt would want to see Blaine's track meet?

Minutes, or maybe hours, passed by before Blaine was able to reach over for his phone, holding it in his hands like hot coal. His stomach was fluttering with anxious butterflies, and he squeezed his eyes shut before opening the message.

When he opened his eyes, relief flooded through him. The message simply read, _sure! i'll be there :) _but to Blaine it meant _everything. _Even the little smiley face at the end was sending Blaine's head into a tailspin. Though the message was pretty generic and platonic, and felt like a declaration of undying love.

Blaine laid there on his bed in bliss, his eyes shut and his hand, with the phone still clutched in it, across his chest. He might have been drifting off to sleep when he heard his name being called by Milly from the bottom of the stairs to come down for dinner.

Feeling lightheaded and giddy, Blaine made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where the rest of his family was seated.

"Hey, Blaine," his father said, clamping a hand down on Blaine's shoulder when he passed. "Have a good day?"

"Yeah it was alright," Blaine shrugged, but secretly he was jumping and screaming for joy. This, he decided, was the good kind of secret.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, Blaine woke up feeling extremely nervous already. He had already anticipated the jitters because of the fact that this was the first track event of the year, but his anxiety was doubled by the fact that Kurt would be watching from the audience. What if they lost? Or Blaine did something monumentally embarrassing? _Oh god, _what if he _tripped_?

In an attempt to calm some of the nerves, he took a warm shower. He idly thought to himself for what seemed like forever, and he realized that at least one good thing had come from his mother not speaking to him—there was no banging on the bathroom door for him to get out. He figured if he really wanted to push her limits, he could just stay home from school and do nothing—but personally, he wouldn't let himself do that and he quickly shut off the water.

Instead of sitting down for breakfast, he grabbed a cereal bar. The house sounded empty as he walked out the door, and he didn't bother to yell a "goodbye" over his shoulder as he left.

The day went by agonizingly slowly—or incredibly fast. Blaine couldn't decide whether he was more excited or nervous, and stumbled around the hallway that day giving shaky high-fives, and once, even stopping for an impromptu mini-pep rally, which consisted of the cheerleaders chanting a few lines, and the team just yelled as loud as they could.

Through the crowd of people Blaine swore he saw Kurt, rolling his eyes at what he probably thought was the barbaric attitude of the sports team. But that didn't stop Blaine from giving him the brightest smile he could muster, and his heart skipped a beat as Kurt returned it, a little bit mockingly—but Blaine would take it.

He hadn't really thought about how risky that could have been, sending Kurt such a huge smile—but for once, Blaine easily brushed it off, and prepared for an excuse if anyone ever said anything to him. He doubted they would, but Blaine always felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

Finally the bell rang out at the end of the day, and Blaine lagged behind, purposely dropping a couple of papers to the floor so everybody was forced to walk behind him while he bent down to pick them up. After everybody was gone, Blaine left, looking around at the almost-empty hallways. He quickly walked down the hallway that contained Kurt's locker, but to his disappointment, Kurt wasn't there.

Feeling a little let down, (but still a bit relieved—he had no idea what he would say to Kurt if he did see him), Blaine headed out to his car, nodding his head to a couple of people while twirling his car key ring around his pointer finger.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blaine arrived in the McKinley locker room at four that afternoon, a bag strapped over his shoulder and holding a cold water bottle in his hand. He walked into the room, taking a few boys' hands and pulling them in for a one-arm hug. He set his stuff down at his locker and opened it, then brought his bag up to the bench.

He changed quickly and deliberately, keeping his eyes to himself. They were always trained on the floor or his own locker, and never once did they stray. Blaine had once made sure to be trained very good in this matter—as he knew that if he started looking, he probably wouldn't be able to stop. He remembered his sophomore year, he was lucky enough to be put on the varsity track team—how there was this one boy, Nate, who would make so much noise in the locker room, Blaine would leave with a headache more often than not. And this made it very hard to ignore him— and Blaine vividly remembered laughing at some antic he was performing and making the mistake of taking his eyes off the locker. He remembered his mouth going slightly slack and his eyes couldn't move off of Nate's lower body, which was only covered by a pair of tight, white shorts, and when his eyes wandered back up, he was completely entranced by the way his muscles rippled on his chest every time they moved—but he had quickly snapped out of it.

Blaine would never forget the feeling of shame he got after that day. They boys had definitely noticed, and the rest of the year he was followed around with taunts of, _"Keep your clothes on boys, Blaine's coming in the room!" _and even worse, _"Can we please have Blaine change in the girl's locker room, I'm not so sure I want him sneaking a peek at my junk."_

Luckily, locker room talk was just that. What the boys said rarely left the locker room, and Blaine was never quite sure whether the boys were being serious or not. Whatever the case was, Blaine still decided to take a break from track his junior year. He never told anyone why.

But today, Blaine felt too giddy with excitement to dwell on these memories. He found himself distracted by ridiculous scenes in his head where Kurt jumped over the fence separating the stands from the track and hurling himself into Blaine's arms, proclaiming how Blaine was _his hero. _Even in his fantasies Blaine wasn't sure how he could be Kurt's hero—but that was beside the point.

The point _was _that Blaine had to win this meet if he wanted to properly impress Kurt.

After lacing up his tennis shoes nice and tight, Blaine followed the rest of the boys out of the locker room and out onto the field, where they were to do a couple of warm-up laps and stretches. While Blaine took a seat on the grass and reached for his toes, his eyes scanned the thin crowd of people that had arrived early. He couldn't see Kurt, but he did see his father, and he waved to him. His mother was nowhere to be seen.

Blaine sent them a quick wave as he sat down on the bench will the other boys. With butterflies in his stomach, he watched as a few of his teammates go, and they all did fairly well.

Twenty minutes later, Blaine was lined up at the starting line for his own sprint, his eyes straight ahead and tried to keep his head clear. At the sound of the gunshot, Blaine sprang into action, breathing steadily in and out his nose until he reached the finish line. He had finished second.

Disappointed with himself, he closed his eyes and rolled his neck while still breathing heavily through his nose from the run. He walked back to his team, who clapped him on the shoulder, muttering, "Good run."

He took a seat on the bench and grabbed his water under it. He scanned the crowd once more, this time he saw Kurt, sitting by himself, his arms tucked in tight to his side and he seemed to be flipping through his phone. When he looked up, Blaine smiled at him, and Kurt sent him a thumbs up.

Feeling better, Blaine sank into the bench, leaning back while pushing his legs out in front of him. He shut his eyes and smiled slightly—_this time Kurt had actually been cheering for him._

OOOOOOOOOO

It turns out that Mary Williams' track team was better than they thought, and McKinley just barely lost. A little embarrassed at the loss, Blaine made his way over to the fence to where Kurt was standing. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the rest of his team weren't watching. They were involved in some discussion with their coach and some had already gone into the locker room.

"Hey," he said approaching Kurt. He smiled nervously, very aware of the sweat beaded on his forehead and matting his bangs down. He ran his hand through his curls self-consciously, hoping that Kurt wouldn't find him too repulsive in his sweaty state.

"Hey!" Kurt said, bouncing on his heels little bit. His hands were folded on the fence and he noticed they were red from the cold.

"You didn't bring gloves?" Blaine asked, shaking his head a little bit. He leaned in closer to the fence. He figured Kurt must be freezing.

Kurt shook his head, "No, I forgot them. I was in a hurry to leave and I left them on the kitchen counter." Then he suddenly looked at Blaine, a little bit apologetic, "I told Finn that I was going to the mall with Tina, so—"

"Oh," Blaine shook his head, realizing where this was going. "Finn already knows. It doesn't really matter."

"Aaah. Well, then." Kurt cleared his throat.

Blaine scrambled around for something to say. "Thanks for coming," he said, leaning in maybe a bit too far, placing his hands on either side of Kurt's on the fence. "It means a lot to me."

"Oh, no problem!" Kurt smiled, waving it off.

"Yeah—" Blaine scooted his hand towards Kurt's, his thumb brushing the side of Kurt's hand. Their eyes met, and Blaine felt his heart leap into his throat when he felt Kurt's hand pushing back against his own. The nervous butterflies suddenly reappeared in his stomach.

"Hi, boys."

Blaine nearly jumped out of his skin- his father had a bad habit of sneaking up on people. Blaine quickly pulled his hands away and took a few steps back, trying to look normal. He pretended to not see the look that Kurt gave him.

"Hi, Dad," Blaine said, his tone making it very clear that he wasn't welcome right now.

"You did good, but I think the other team cheated," he joked, earning a smile from Kurt, but a stony look from his son- telling him to _leave oh my god leave. _His father paid no mind and turned to Kurt, holding his hand out. "Hi," he said warmly, shaking Kurt's hand. "I'm Blaine's dad. Kurt, right?"

Kurt nodded, smiling, and Blaine momentarily forgot what he was mad about.

"Yes. I'm Finn's step-brother."

"Right!" His father nodded, "yes, I've seen you at some football games and such but we've never been introduced." He turned to give his son a mockingly stern look, to which Blaine just stared back helplessly. Kurt seemed to find this funny and giggled, making Blaine's mouth break into a goofy smile.

"Well, I've got to get back now. See you back at the house," he said to Blaine, his eyes looked back and forth between the two boys, his mouth in a slight frown. Then he waved goodbye and left, leaving Blaine and Kurt alone again.

"Sorry," Blaine said, shaking his head a little bit. "He's kind of weird."

"No, no. He's nice!" Kurt said, and then he looked at Blaine with narrowed eyes, as if he was trying to remember something. It made Blaine feel like he was on display once more and he quickly made an excuse to leave. He thanked Kurt once again for coming and ran off towards the locker rooms.

The room was almost empty, everyone either wanted to go home to get out of the cold or just leave as soon as possible because of the loss. Blaine weaved his way through the lockers and benches, opening his own locker and retrieving his bag with his clothes.

He quickly stripped off his uniform and pulled on his jeans and hoodie, then spraying himself with some body spray so that he could bear to be around himself.

With his bag stuffed safely in his locker he headed out, his keys in his hand and unlocking it from afar. He was a few cars away from his own when he saw Kurt getting into his own, and briefly he wondered why it had taken so long for Kurt to get to his car—but that was pushed from his mind as he sped up his pace to meet him.

"Hey!" Blaine said, leaning against Kurt's car.

Kurt turned around, obviously startled with a defensive look on his face. "What do you wa—" then his face softened, "Oh, hey Blaine. I see you're out of uniform now," he wrinkled his nose playfully, "and hopefully showered."

Blaine laughed and watched as Kurt closed his car door and stood closer to him. "No, sadly not. I did put on some body spray, though."

"Aah, well _I guess_ that's good enough," Kurt said, raising his eyebrows, with still a small smile on his lips. Blaine suddenly felt a surge of adrenaline. _I__s this was flirting feels like?_

At any other moment Blaine would be mortified to say that he giggled, but he was too distracted to notice. Kurt was standing awfully close, and Blaine was sure he was going to catch on fire by the way he was heating up.

"I figured it's better than nothing," Blaine said, his eyes drifting to his own shoes.

"Well you were right," Kurt said, now inspecting his fingernails. "It's sort of late though, and I have to get home," he smiled when Blaine looked slightly crestfallen, "but since you don't smell like a disgusting jock, I think you deserve a hug for your game tonight, I really enjoyed it."

Blaine doubted that Kurt had had actually enjoyed the race, but nevertheless he stepped forward and slipped his arms around Kurt's torso, trying to push himself as close as possible. He felt himself relaxing into Kurt's arms and taking in his warm scent. The hug lasted longer than a normal one would and Blaine felt himself wanting more when they finally pulled away.

There was a slightly embarrassed silence afterward, and despite the cold, Blaine felt a blush working up his cheeks and he tried to make a hasty retreat to his car, but Kurt called him back.

"Blaine?"

Blaine turned around on his heel quickly, almost losing his balance. "Yeah?"

Kurt held up his phone, "You should text me. I gave you my phone number for a reason."

Blaine nodded, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water before he nodded, quickly shouting, "Yeah! Okay, I'll totally text you!"

That night Blaine went to sleep with his arms wrapped around him, trying to recreate the warm and safe feeling that Kurt's hugs gave him, and behind his closed eyes he could see Kurt's smile.

**D'aw Blaine is so cute :3**


	23. Chapter 23

Blaine was feeling pretty good the next day- and it was a Friday. He still felt giddy when he imagined Kurt's smile on his face, and at school that day he even flashed his own smile at the boy while they were passing in the hallway.

Things were really looking up, or for a couple of hours they were- but hey, Blaine would take it. He was succeeding in pushing the initial humiliation of Kurt having discovered his identity—and he was finding that he somewhat enjoyed it. He was always the guy who liked romantic stuff, but was never sure how exactly to actually execute it. So this new feeling of shivery excitement thrilled him to no end.

He now took comfort in the secret that he could be thinking of _anything_ he wanted in class and no one would ever know. In the back of his mind, he knew having all this confidence and bravado was a bad for him overall, but he couldn't help but smirk at the thought of Kurt's arms around him.

The poor sucker beside him had no idea what that felt like, in fact, judging by his bad haircut and poor attitude, he had probably never had another persons arm around him, let alone Kurt's.

With another small, secretive grin on his face, Blaine leaned back in his chair and twirled a pen through his fingers with ease.

OOOOOOOOOO

Unfortunately, all the happiness he felt at school seemed to fade away as soon as he stepped through his own door. It was a strange feeling, because his home used to be his safe place—where he could act like himself and have no worries about anyone ever judging him. Now the only place he had left that remotely felt like this would be Finn's house.

_Or maybe in Kurt's arms._

Blaine bit his lip to hold back a smile as he stepped through the door. It was completely silent. Usually this would be alarming on a Friday afternoon since his mother didn't work today and she liked to keep the television on, saying it filled the house. She didn't like silence.

_Funny_—_she doesn't like silence, but she doesn't mind giving the silent treatment to her own son, _Blaine mused to himself bitterly. He threw his backpack carelessly on the kitchen chair in front of the island and spotted a yellow note. It had the neat, cursive writing of his mother on it and he turned away towards the living room, but not before grabbing a bag of chips from the pantry.

He already knew what it said. Probably that she was going to the store. Blaine leisurely threw himself on the couch, his jaw clenched. It bothered him.

Who wouldn't be bothered by their own mother ignoring them? It hurt a lot more than he let on. A lot more than he let himself believe.

But what could he do? He wasn't even sure what his Mom was mad about. What did she want to change? Was she _that _upset at the very idea that her son was with a guy?

The television stared back at him in mocking silence. The remote was across the room and Blaine was way too lazy to get up and retrieve it. Sighing, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, his eyes already starting to sting from tears and fatigue.

He felt weird knowing that just half an hour ago, he was at school and he felt on top of the world. It was amazing how moods change so fast. _Hm, maybe I'm was bipolar_.

A vibration from his backpack startled him, and he placed a hand on his heart, feeling the quick beating. Feeling silly for overreacting like this, Blaine pushed himself off the couch and padded into the kitchen, retrieving his phone from his backpack.

He hoped it wasn't Puck inviting him to a party that he would have to turn down—but then again, he had not gotten any party invites for a while. Maybe they had given up on him. And, actually, now that he thought about it, he hadn't been invited ever since he turned down Ellie months ago.

The text message was just from a track team member. He lazily read it and deleted it when he was done. He sighed—apparently there was going to be another day of practice in the week after the "dreadful" performance yesterday. So there went his Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and now Thursday afternoons.

He mindlessly thumbed through his phone, random thoughts running through his head, (_I need to run this weekend. Maybe I'll invite Kurt to another track meet. Maybe I should straighten my hair. I don't have a straightener. I could convince Milly to buy one) _when he noticed that there was still a little yellow envelope at the bottom of his screen.

Thinking that it was some weird glitch on his phone—that it just hadn't picked up the fact that he deleted the new message he got—he opened his inbox. He nearly had a heart attack when he realized that he did indeed have another new message—_and it was from Kurt!_

He quickly opened the message and greedily read it. He soaked up every word like a sponge would water, and he easily heard Kurt's voice reading the message to him. _Hey you :) so I really did have fun tonight and would like to see you again_. _I was thinking that maybe friday we could hang out?_

But wait—Friday? That was today! Confused, Blaine checked the date of the message, and sure enough, the message was "received" yesterday night. Which would have meant that Kurt sent this message right after the track meet.

Blaine scoffed at his phone in annoyance. _Received? Yeah right! _He quickly thought back to earlier that day where he smiled at Kurt. He couldn't remember if Kurt had smiled back, he was so far up on cloud nine. What if Kurt was feeling hurt and rejected by him? He knew that it would have taken himself weeks to work up the courage to ask Kurt out (and it did) and he couldn't imagine what it would have felt like to have no answer from Kurt.

He immediately typed out a message, using plenty of exclamation points and emoticons to emphasize his point. Letting out a puff of air, he relaxed on the couch with the phone resting on his stomach.

Not even a moment later, the phone vibrated and he snatched it up. _Its okay! Really! My phone does that sometimes too, its all good:) but i'm still not doing anything today, so the offer does indeed still stand ;)_

Blaine almost laughed out loud with relief. He was in the middle of typing a reply when his phone started to vibrate with an incoming call from Kurt.

His stomach immediately flooded with nerves. He was never good at talking on the phone—he always ended up saying something stupid! Well, he figured he did that without any help from the phone line, but it was always worse.

He answered the call slowly and brought the phone up to his ear, hoping his voice wasn't too shaky. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Kurt's cheery voice from the other line greeted him. Blaine once again bit back a smile and folded his legs under him.

"Hi." He said, and then fought back an absurd giggle. His whole body seemed to be shaking with excitement and the phone on his ear was already hot.

"So, like I said, if you still want to do something..." he trailed off, and Blaine immediately picked it up.

"Yeah! Definitely! Uh..."

"I was thinking we could just go to the mall or something? Maybe catch a movie? I mean, I would invite you over here but Finn is here and—"

"Oh, I thought he was going out with Rachel?" Blaine asked, puzzled. The latest he had heard, his best friend and girlfriend were madly in love and no earthly force could tear them apart.

"Yeah, not anymore. I don't know why," Kurt laughs softly, "I try not to get myself tangled with them. It's very dangerous." Blaine made a mental note to text Finn later, see if he was okay. Finn had been a very good friend to him lately, and he figured he should return the favor.

"I understand completely. But, I guess I could come pick you up later? Maybe around six-ish?" Blaine asked, and he could hardly believe that this was happening. He was going to pick Kurt up to go on a _date. _A mere two weeks ago this was just a fantasy or a dream he might have had on a particularly good night.

"Great!" Kurt exclaimed, and Blaine smiled when he heard that Kurt was just as excited as he was. "That sounds great!"

"Okay, uh, cool," he replied, his fingers finding a throw blanket draped over the couch and played with a loose thread.

"See you then!"

"Bye," he said, then pressed the end call button. The phone earpiece felt like fire underneath his palm, and he realized that his whole body felt hot like he had a fever. His underarms started to feel sticky with sweat, and an enormous wave of anxiousness took over him.

_What if he couldn't do this? What if they saw someone they knew?_

Nevertheless, the excitement of going on a _date _with _Kurt Hummel _overrode his anxiousness of being seen, and he sprinted upstairs to go take a quick shower.

OOOOOOOOOO

Two hours later, his mother and sister were home from grocery shopping. Blaine was already dressed in a pair of jeans and a striped t-shirt, and was pulling on a plain hoodie when they walked through the door. All three of them stopped and stared at each other right by the door—it would have been sort of comical, but all Blaine could think of is the way his mother was scrutinizing his outfit and freshly showered hair with hawk-like eyes.

"Where are you going?" She asked, handing a bag of milk to Milly to put in the refrigerator.

Blaine expected that he would be elated the moment that his mother decided to speak to him again; however, all he wanted to do right now was to punch somebody. Not talking to her own son for more than a week and all she wanted to know is where he was going? It's not like she cared before! There was no "hi," or anything, just accusations!

"Out." He said curtly. Of course, before he could leave, he could always trust Milly to be an obnoxious little girl and yell from the kitchen: "He's going on a _date! _Aren't you?_" _She appeared around the corner with a sneaky smile on her face, but ducked back into the kitchen once she caught sight of Blaine's deadly expression.

He felt his neck flush and finished pulling the sweater on angrily. He knew that his face was probably bright pink, _and _he just confirmed where he was going.

"With who?" His mom asked, now sounding kind of breathless. There was a small smile on her face, and Blaine found himself caught in the middle. The middle of wanting to wipe it right off and to keep it there forever.

He pushed his way out the door, but not before he said, "Katy." He could literally hear the smile on his mother's face grow, but he didn't look. He couldn't.

Blaine was also glad that his mother couldn't see his face as well, because he knew it would have been perfectly obvious that he was lying. The name of his date was definitely not _Katy. _But he kept walking until he reached his car, driving away with his eyes trained fully on the road.

OOOOOOOOOO

When he arrived at Kurt's neighborhood a few moments later, he had already worked himself up into a frenzy. On the way, he had checked his hair at every stoplight, made sure his fly was zipped up, and checked his breath—even though he had brushed his teeth twice before he left, he still found himself reaching for his mints.

He knew this last precaution was probably futile, there was about a ten percent chance that Kurt would kiss him. He didn't think that Kurt was one to kiss on the first date- but he couldn't help the nervous excitement that bubbled up inside of him at the mere thought of Kurt's lips on his own.

Blaine parked his car on the street instead of the driveway and pulled out his phone, texting Kurt saying that he was here. It was probably a really douchebag move, but he couldn't bring himself to ring the doorbell. What if Finn or Kurt's dad answered? He would probably pass out from the sheer embarrassment. He turned off the car, just in case he would be waiting awhile.

A few moments later, Kurt walked out of the door, calling something over his shoulder and smiling. Blaine watched as Kurt walked towards him, taking in his outfit. It seemed a little bit toned down for what Kurt would usually wear, and Blaine wondered if he did this just to make Blaine feel more comfortable. He hoped not. He liked those outfits. But he wasn't going to lie, it _did _make him feel more comfortable. Blaine really liked Kurt, but he didn't think he could handle it if Kurt walked out the door in a corset or something way flamboyant- for various reasons.

When Kurt got to the car, he waved at Blaine, and then tried to pull the handle to the door, which was locked. Blaine immediately jumped and scrambled to unlock the door, wondering if he should have gotten out to open the door for him. _Oh god, now he thinks I'm rude. I should have opened the door. What is wrong with me?_

To calm Blaine's nerves a little bit, Kurt was laughing when he finally climbed into the passenger seat. "Were you not going to let me in?" He teased, and Blaine laughed nervously back, trying to place the car key back into the ignition, but he found his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

If Kurt noticed, he didn't say anything, and Blaine was eternally grateful for his tact.

The car ride was mostly quiet with small talk here and there about school and sports. College and futures weren't avoided, but neither of them wanted to bring it up. Mostly Blaine was concerned with the way he had no control over his laugh. They all came out as nervous-sounding giggles that sort of reminded him of a dolphin and he hoped every time he laughed, Kurt had gone temporarily deaf.

Although he knew this wasn't the case. Every time he did laugh, Kurt would turn his head on the seat and smile knowingly at him. It sort of embarrassed him, but at the same time it gave him goose bumps. The good kind—the kind you get when somebody runs their hands through your hair and shivers are sent down your spine. It felt almost _intimate _the way Kurt looked at him, and Blaine never wanted it to stop. It was the way people look at each other when they know almost everything about you.

He would look over at Kurt whenever he felt the other boy looking at him, and then Kurt would look down at his lap, biting his lower lip. It felt so _cheesy, _like they were straight out of some sort of bad romantic comedy playing on _Lifetime, _but Blaine was loving it.

He got on the highway, heading towards a mall a little bit farther away from them, but wasn't a favorite of the kids at their high school.

"Sorry," he mumbled, now feeling a little bit ashamed. But Kurt shook his head, "No, it's fine. I completely understand." He said, and looked over at Blaine again with that _stupid _smile, and once again the only thing Blaine was worried about was his _stupid _dolphin laugh.

OOOOOOOOOO

Turns out that Kurt likes shopping.

Well, Blaine obviously knew this, but he didn't know that bringing Kurt to a mall was almost like a death sentence. He found himself being dragged into stores he didn't even know existed and shirts, pants, belts, and sweaters were shoved into his arms. He wasn't sure if these were for him or Kurt.

However, as Kurt piled a white, sequined leather jacket on top of the pile in his arms, he sincerely hoped that they were for Kurt.

After the initial shock of what he could only describe as "serial shopping", Blaine actually kind of had fun. He found himself laughing after Kurt would hold various articles of clothing and make a face, sometimes exclaiming, "Who on earth would wear _this?"_

Once Kurt held up a banana-colored rain coat and raised his eyebrows at his shopping companion, "Uh, this color is the most revolting thing I've ever seen."

Highly amused, Blaine raised his own eyebrows back at him, "Don't you remember that one—"

"Oh, shut up!" Kurt said, shoving the yellow jacket back onto the rack and turning towards Blaine. "That was only once and I was young and fashionably naïve!" He took inventory of all the clothes in Blaine's arms and then hummed, apparently satisfied with himself. Then he pushed Blaine towards the dressing rooms.

The lady behind the counter laughed when she saw the amount of clothes in their arms. "Do I dare ask how many?" She asked, walking around the small counter and taking a closer look. She shook her head and then shoved a plastic number ten in Kurt's hands. "Close enough," she muttered, before returning to her post.

Kurt led Blaine into the farthest dressing room from the entrance and shoved him in. "Wait! I thought these clothes were for you!" Blaine said frantically, trying to push them onto Kurt, who just giggled and perched himself on a bench outside the room. "Nope! I'll be out here waiting!"

Blaine closed the dressing room door and dumped the clothes onto the small seat in the corner. He scratched his head, having no idea what to try on first or what to try on stuff with. He sifted through the pile of clothes, mostly freaked out by the stuff that Kurt had chosen. He started to wonder if Kurt was messing with him when he pulled out a light blue t-shirt with a bejeweled kitten on the front.

Yeah, definitely messing with him.

Smiling, he pulled the kitten shirt out and a pair of hideously brown corduroy pants Kurt chose and slipped them on. The pants went on past his thighs, but they would not button or zip shut. He looked in the mirror and flushed. If he left the pants open, the top of his underwear and a small trail of dark hair were visible. He pulled the shirt down as far as it would go, and opened the door with a flourish.

"I'm quite partial to the kitten shirt myself," he said, trying to sound completely serious. Kurt stared at him for a few seconds, and Blaine still kept a straight face because Kurt was actually buying it.

It was only a few seconds before Kurt lost it and was laughing at him. Blaine looked at himself in the mirror and tugged at the shirt, saying how much he loved it over Kurt's laughs.

"Oh my god, take that off." Kurt said, still giggling. "I'm picking out the next outfit for you."

"I think it goes with my eyes, the jewels really bring them out." Blaine said sincerely as he could.

Kurt shook his head and shoved a pair of dark wash pants, a white shirt, and a dark red sweater into Blaine's hands. "Here, these will look nice. I'll be out here!" The door was shut again, and Blaine stripped off the kitten t-shirt and threw it into the pile.

When he pulled on the jeans (which didn't fit again. Kurt had obviously underestimated the size of his butt), shirt and cardigan on, he had to admit: he didn't look half bad. And it was comfortable, the sweater was soft and silky on his arms and it made him look older. But as he looked in the mirror more and more, he realized that he looked incredibly, well, _gay._He saw his reflection in the mirror grimace as he wondered if it was the sweater making him gay- or if was just him.

He opened the door to the dressing room and stood there awkwardly as Kurt nodded his approval. Kurt realized this and gave him a weird look, "Well that's strange; you come out wearing a glittery kitten shirt and model for me, and the thing that looks good..." He stood up and pushed himself into the dressing room, busying himself with the collar of the sweater and adjusted the shirt under it.

Then he stood next to Blaine and looked in the mirror with him. "It looks good."

"I look like Mr. Rogers," Blaine deadpanned and tugged on the hem of the dark red fabric.

"That, too. You look like an attractive Mr. Rogers." Kurt said, tilting his head to the left, and Blaine saw him blush.

"I look gay."

Kurt broke his gaze with the mirror and looked at the wall beside him. Blaine couldn't look away from the mirror, but he felt immediately guilty for saying that out loud. Had Kurt taken that as an insult? Blaine hadn't meant for him to.

"Well," Kurt cleared his throat. He locked his eyes with Blaine's in the mirror, holding them there. "Aren't you?"

Blaine stared at the reflection of Kurt's navy blue shirt, studying the way the shiny buttons flashed in the florescent lights. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I still like it." Kurt said softly, his hand grasping Blaine's arm over the soft material. "It's really soft," he said, and Blaine was sure that he was teasing him. His fingers slid down the sleeve, and Blaine's heart beat sped up alarmingly when he felt Kurt's hand slip into his. Their fingers laced together easily.

"I guess I'll have to buy it then."

OOOOOOOOOO

With a small shopping bag in tow, they exited the store and headed down the mall. Kurt stopped at various stores to look around and Blaine, never really one for shopping, followed along and added his own commentary. Blaine was so thankful every time Kurt laughed at one of his jokes. It truly was a miracle.

The whole time, Blaine had his hand inching towards Kurt's at every opportunity. He wanted desperately to hold his hand again, but how would he go about doing that? Should he ask? Or should he just go for it and grab his hand?

While they walked, he tried bumping his hand into Kurt's, but he never seemed to get it. He once just tried to straight up ask Kurt it he could hold his hand, but the words got choked up in his mouth and he never tried that again.

Now they were walking around an empty cooking ware shop, admiring the shiny cake pans in all different shapes, and Kurt was talking about the time he tried to make a cake for his dad's birthday when he was thirteen, and it all but exploded in the oven. Blaine was trying his hardest to pay attention, but Kurt's hand was _right there._

"So then, the timer goes off, right? So, I come down the stairs and, oh god, even from across the kitchen you could see the smoke filling the oven—what?" Kurt turned to look at him, puzzled.

Blaine had tried to slip his hand in Kurt's, but at the very same moment, Kurt had lifted his hand to run a finger along a shiny chrome pan. Blaine immediately dropped his arm, shaking his head. "Um, nothing. I was, uh—"

"I'm sorry! I'm totally boring you to death about my failed cooking experiences, aren't I?" Kurt laughed.

"No! No, it was, um," Blaine saw that Kurt's hand was back at his side. He quickly slipped his hand into Kurt's, looking down at their hands instead of Kurt's face. He knew his own would probably be bright red by now.

"Oh, okay," he heard Kurt say, and when Blaine glanced up he saw that he was smiling.

As they walked out of the store hand-in-hand, Blaine thought that he deserved some kind of medal.

But the thing was, once they got out of the cover of the empty store, Blaine couldn't help the feeling of paranoia that set in. They were no longer two guys just hanging out at the mall, now they were holding hands. In public. Where anyone, including people from school or the neighborhood, could see.

Kurt seemed to sense Blaine tense up and he said quietly, "I understand if you don't want to."

"But I do want to," Blaine sighed. "It's just—"

"No, I get it." Kurt said, a little sadly, and pulled his hand out from Blaine's. His hands felt cold and empty without Kurt's warmth, and he wanted it back, but couldn't bring himself to do what he did in the cookware store out in the open.

"I mean, is this a date? This is a date, right?" Kurt asked. They stopped walking and stood off to the side, next to another clothing store.

Blaine nodded his head slowly, "Yeah, I think so. Is it?"

"Yeah. It is," Kurt said, and then his grin grew wider, teasing. "I can't believe I'm going on a date with football star Blaine Anderson. Wait until everyone hears _this," _he quickly backtracked once he saw the look on Blaine's face. "That was just an expression, I wouldn't actually tell anybody."

But Blaine thought back to when he told his mother (or when _Milly _told his mother that he was going out on a date). He said he was going with a girl. A girl named Katy, who didn't exist. He thought of how happy she looked. Hopeful.

"—but even then. I think you should be proud of yourself, Blaine." Blaine zoned back in, realizing that Kurt was still talking. "I think you're amazing and I really, really like you."

Completely stunned that Kurt would actually _remember _that, he felt numb as Kurt pulled him into a hug in the middle of a crowded mall.


	24. Chapter 24

**Okay, so I've been a bad writer lately and making you guys wait _years _between updates, so I figured I would post this one and the next one closer together :) It's kind of split in two? I don't know, you'll understand when I post the next chapter either tomorrow or the day after!**

**Enjoy:)**

When he arrived home and found the house dark, he thought he had gotten off easy, and that his family had gone to bed early. But of course, he passed the living room to find the lights off and the television on, and his shadow passed on the wall, catching his family's attention.

"Blaine!" Milly yelled, jumping up from the couch. "How was your date?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him. He pushed her away, but smiled, showing that he wasn't mad, but he really didn't want to talk about his date with Kurt with the family.

"It was fine, but I'm going to go up to bed. Goodnight." He hurried out of there and up the stairs and closed his door. Before flopping down on his bed, he grabbed his laptop and set his phone beside him, anxiously waiting to see if Kurt would text him.

On his computer, he opened Facebook and after browsing through his friends' profiles for a bit, reading about what everyone was doing, he closed it. He didn't even know why he had a profile on that stupid website—all it really did was depress him.

He closed his laptop and set it aside, reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing the book he was currently reading. Before cracking it open, he checked his phone to make sure he hadn't accidentally bumped it on silent. It was still on vibrate, but Blaine decided to check the messages again to make sure he hadn't missed any. His inbox was empty.

Sighing, Blaine set the phone back down next to him. Then picked it up again and placed it on his stomach—now there was no possible way that he could miss a message from Kurt.

After reading his book for a while, he started to doze off and was awoken by a knock at the door. Blaine jumped and the book slid from his chest and down to the bed.

"Yeah?" He called, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, trying to get the contacts to unstick from his eyes.

His door creaked open and his father stepped into the room. The hallway behind him was dark, so Blaine guessed that everyone had gone to bed. He looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table and it read that it was past midnight.

"How was your date?" His dad asked softly, closing the door behind him. Blaine sat up on his bed and poked a button on his phone, making the screen come to life. Still no messages. Had Kurt had a bad time on his date with him?

Blaine shrugged his shoulders. "It was alright, I guess."

"You two guys have fun?"

_Guys. _Blaine felt his spine go rigid and he felt as if any sudden movement would give himself away. His stomach began to churn. "No, I went with Katy," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound as frantic a as he felt. "Katy. A girl from my school. That's who I went on a date with."

His father shook his head, smiling. "Yeah, that's what I meant, sorry. You guys have fun?"

Blaine kept his breathing even. There was something in his father's eyes that suggested that that was _not _what he meant. But Blaine tried to smile too. "Yeah, it was good."

His father nodded slowly, biting his lower lip and looking at the ground, as if deep in thought. Then he suddenly looked up at Blaine, "Your mom seemed happy to see you go out."

Blaine really wanted his dad to leave. His heart felt like lead, and his head picked up a dull throb in his temple. "Yeah. I guess. Uh, I'm going to take a shower and go to bed." He rolled off the bed and pushed past his father at his bedroom door.

"Are we going to get to meet them soon?"

_Them. Not her, he said. _Blaine just shrugged again, "Maybe." Then he walked into the bathroom and closed the door quickly so his Father wouldn't be able to ask questions. "Goodnight, dad." He called through the door.

He heard a muffled "Goodnight, Blaine." And it might have been Blaine being paranoid, but he swore it sounded exasperated. Blaine walked over to the shower and turned it on, then stripped off his clothes and stepped into the stream of hot water. His knees felt a little weak and he sat down and brought his knees up to his chest.

The water kept dripping in his eyes, but he shook it off and pushed his curls back off of his forehead. The conversation with his dad made him think about how he blatantly lied to his mother about who he was going on a date with. She just seemed so happy, and who was Blaine to deny her of that?

He thought of how a month ago, a simple solution to his problem would have been just coming out at the dinner table. Simply laying everything out in front of him: _Mom, Dad. I'm gay. _The only problem was not being brave enough to do that. He had never dreamed that either of his parents would have a problem with him being gay. Now that he knew that his mother would likely never speak to him again, it posed a new set of problems.

Coming out would not only mean ostracized in the high school setting, but in his own home. He thought of how Kurt bravely went to school every day and stood up to bullies. They never really seemed to get him down, although he figured there was a lot more to Kurt than he let the jock-and everyone else- onto.

But thinking about Kurt made him hurt even more. Kurt hadn't texted him. And even after he hugged Blaine, he seemed to be a little bit more distant than he was before. Blaine figured it was because of the whole hand-holding fiasco. Now that he was back home, Blaine wanted nothing more than to go back in time and punch his past-self, and tell him to _suck it up and hold Kurt's hand, you idiot._

Kurt hadn't texted him. His eyes started to sting, and he wondered when on earth he started to get so emotional, _oh my god. _But like usual, once the first tear leaked out of his eye, everything bad that seemed to happen in his life came flooding back to him before he could stop it.

Kurt's annoyance, Blaine's being so cowardly, the disappointment in his mother's eyes, and probably his father's too. That time in the locker room when he got called a fag, even when it was just teasing from the team, it hurt just as much. He even thought of Cameron and his girlfriend. But mostly he just thought of Kurt—and of how he knew everything about a certain jock. How Kurt knew that Blaine was just one big baby who liked the security of the shut closet door.

He probably even knew that Blaine was just one big emotional train wreck, and that he would be a fool to get caught up with Blaine and his stupid, unnecessary drama.

Blaine allowed himself to get swirled in with self-pity and he didn't even try to suppress a shaking sob that echoed throughout the shower.

OOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, Blaine got up at eight, much earlier than he usually would have woken up on a Saturday morning, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He yanked his phone out of the charger, and sent a quick message to Finn.

While he waited for a reply, he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen—where, surprisingly, his mother sat, nursing a steaming cup of coffee and hair curlers in her hair.

A little stunned, Blaine halted at the doorway. The image had brought out childhood memories he hadn't thought of in forever. When he was younger, he would always wake up early on the weekends and watch television while his mother poured him cereal. Her hair were always in curlers. (He never understood why she needed curlers though, since he got his own curly mop from his mother.)

"Good morning, Blaine," she said pleasantly. A genuine smile was peeking out from the rim of her cup, and Blaine strangely felt like he was walking into a trap, like he was walking on thin ice and one wrong move would send him plunging into icy waters with no one to pull him out.

"Good morning," he said, walking slowly into the kitchen. He grabbed and apple and then a water bottle from the cupboard, filling it up with ice and water from the fridge. When he was finished, he was planning on just walking out the kitchen with a simple goodbye. Even though he wanted things with his mother to just be fixed, the resentment from being ignored was too obvious to ignore.

"Where are you off to?"

Blaine was almost around the corner at that point, but he stopped and leaned on the doorframe, trying to look completely indifferent to the fact that she was speaking to him.

"Just off to play some ball," he said, turning to leave again.

"With who?"

Blaine paused—if he said Finn, what would happen? Would her lips curl in disgust—leaving Blaine alone once again? He decided he wouldn't risk that. Hoping that his thoughts hadn't shown on his face, he shrugged his shoulders. "Just this guy, Frank. He's on my track team."

"Oh," she said, seeming very pleased with this answer. "Well, you boys have fun."

Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket, signaling Finn's answer, but he ignored it. "Then after I might go out with Katy," he said, watching with something that maybe felt like pride as his mother smiled, "You know, go grab a bite to eat or something. I might take her shopping. She likes shopping."

He knew he was laying this on thick- but it was working. His mother was smiling and laughing, checking to make sure that her hair pins were still firmly in place, poking her slim fingers through the curls the same way she did when Blaine was five.

"I can tell. Is she the one that bought you that red sweater?"

Now Blaine was feeling nervous. He was digging himself a hole—he should have just shut up when he made up 'Frank', but it was too late now.

"Yeah," he said, "she forced me into clothes."

"Well, it is a nice color. Although it doesn't really seem your style, Mr. Jeans-and-T-shirt." She took a sip of her still steaming coffee, and then raised her eyes to his. "She must be something else if she can get you into a fitting room. Going clothes shopping with you is like pulling teeth."

"Yup. She is something else." He mumbled.

"Alright, well you better get going, you don't want to keep your friend waiting." She said, waving him out the door.

"Bye, mom." He hurried out the kitchen and down the hall, stopping only to grab his car keys from the hook by the door and his worn baseball glove from the closet by the door.

"Hey, Blaine," His dad called from the top of the stairs. He was dressed in a blue robe, his hair and glasses slightly askew.

Blaine started and turned towards the voice. "Oh, hey Dad. I'm just heading out to play some ball down at the park." He said, his eyes on the ground. For some reason he felt embarrassed. Like his father could read his thoughts. Had he heard him crying in the shower?

"So I heard," he said, walking down the stairs and pushing his glasses up his nose. "Tell Finn I said hi."

Blaine felt his stomach plummet and he stilled, just like it did last night. When he got caught in a lie. "No, I'm going out with this guy, Frank. He's on my track team." Blaine didn't even know why he was bothering to lie anymore—based off of the disbelieving look his father was giving him, the lies weren't even working.

"Oh? I could have sworn you said Finn, hmm." He stood there watching Blaine fidget, passing the glove between both hands and rocking on his heels.

"Yeah, well. I have to leave now. He's um, he's waiting, so," he gestured towards the door.

"How's Kurt?" His dad asked suddenly. And Blaine, who was _so close, _to being out the door, froze with his hand on the doorknob. He felt his pulse quicken, but he tried to shrug nonchalantly.

"He's fine," Blaine said quietly, still facing the door. He couldn't look around to look at his father's face. Then he yanked open the door and practically sprinted to his car. Blinking back hot tears, Blaine set off for the park.

OOOOOOOOOO

When Blaine arrived, Finn was already there. He was throwing a ball in the air and hitting it with the bat, making the ball fly across the park.

"'Sup dude," Blaine called, heaving his own gear up the hill that connected the park to the small lot where people kept their cars.

"Hey," Finn said, hitting another ball before setting his bat down to meet Blaine. "What's up?"

Blaine shrugged, setting his stuff down on the ground and ruffling through his bag, looking to for his glove. "You just want to catch or I could pitch you some stuff… ?"

Finn shook his head, looking up over the metal cage that stood over home plate. He had to shield his eyes from the bright sun, even though it felt like it was fifty degrees below freezing. A cool wind blew, and Blaine wondered why he even agreed to come out here.

"I don't know, let's just catch I guess. I think I'm going to try out for pitcher, but I'm not sure. I guess I'll just be happy if I even get on the team," Finn said, walking out in front of Blaine.

"Oh shut up, you will totally get on the team." Blaine said. He wondered if Finn's gloomy attitude had anything to do with the fact that he and Rachel didn't go on their scheduled date last night.

Finn didn't answer, just threw the ball at Blaine, who had to side-step a bit to catch it. His palm burned on impact, a mixture of speed from Finn and his own frozen fingers.

They threw the ball for maybe a little over an hour. They didn't speak, but they both headed towards the small dugout on the side of the field. The sun was directly overhead, and Blaine searched through his bag for some sunglasses. When he didn't find them, he leaned back on the bench next to Finn and sighed.

"I went on a date last night," said Blaine. His eyes were closed and he was leaning his head against the metal mesh behind him. Another soft breeze blew, and he unzipped his hoodie a bit. The cold was no longer bothering him now that he was moving and warmed up.

"With who?" asked Finn, and Blaine figured that this was more out of politeness than anything. He knew that Finn knew that there was only one person that Blaine would go on a date with.

"Kurt." Blaine peeked his eyes open, watching Finn nod through slitted eyes.

"That's good," he said. "Right? That's good?" When he didn't get an answer, Finn just kept on talking. "Well, he told me that he was going shopping with Tina. I guess you're the new Tina."

Blaine sighed, throwing the glove that was previously sitting on his lap roughly to the ground. The fact that Kurt had lied to Finn about where he was going bothered him, but what bothered him the most is that he did the same thing. Except his lie was much worse, because Kurt was just trying to protect Blaine, and Blaine was just trying to selfishly protect himself.

He also called Kurt a girl.

"You alright?" Finn asked.

"No! I'm not!" Blaine said, his voice sounding louder than he expected, echoing through an empty field. "I told my mom that I was going out with a girl," he added, lowering his voice quite a bit for Finn's sake.

"Wait—you and your mom are talking again? Isn't that good—?"

Blaine scoffed, cutting Finn off mid-sentence, and standing up. "No. Now she thinks that I have a girlfriend. And I lied to her about coming out here with you this morning. I told her I'm going with some guy named _Frank_. Oh—and my girlfriend's name is Katy." He paused, his agitation getting the best of him, and he kicked the wooden side of the dugout. "And my dad is just walking around—like he," the words got stuck in his throat. "He _knows, _Finn. I know he does! But he just won't say anything to me! He just says these things and I don't know what they fucking mean!"

After a few deep breaths, Blaine sat back down next to Finn. He picked up his glove and brushed the dirt off of it. Much to Finn's credit, he always knew when Blaine didn't want to talk about things, and he just wanted to blow off steam. So instead of asking questions, he merely muttered, "That blows, man."

They sat there for a while, Finn tossing a ball a few feet in the air and catching it again, keeping an eye on Blaine, whose head was resting in his hands.

"You wanna go hit? I could pitch to you," Finn said, shoving Blaine's shoulder a bit to wake him up.

Blaine pulled his head up and nodded, his eyes squinting in the bright sun. "Alright, sure. Let's go," he got up and paused at the entrance to the dug-out. "Let's see your pathetic pitching."

OOOOOOOOOO

Actually, Blaine found out that Finn was an excellent pitcher—and it was kind of scary how fast Finn was sending the baseballs his way. After Blaine hit the last of the fourteen baseballs that Finn brought with them, they set off to go collect them.

The sun was hidden beneath clouds and Blaine dropped his hand where he was shielding the sun from his eyes. "You ready?" he asked Finn.

Finn slung a small bag over his shoulder. "Yeah let's go find them. I mean, they couldn't have gone far with you hitting them," he said playfully, laughing at Blaine's half-hearted, "_shut up."_

They walked for a while in silence, before Finn's curiosity got the better of him. "How did the date with Kurt actually go?"

"It was good, I guess. I mean." Blaine hadn't—or tried—not to think about the date in detail. He liked the overall feel of it—it was _awesome. _He knew if he tried to dissect the date he would drive himself crazy, going over everything he said and make sure he hadn't said anything stupid. Even if he was sure about this, he would probably freak out and convince himself that he had forgotten something he said. "He hasn't texted me though."

Finn gave him a confused look, "What? It was just last night, dude."

"Well, after the track meet, he texted me right after and told me how he had a good time and stuff..." he trailed off.

"Wow, you are stupid," Finn said, bending down to pick up a baseball on the ground. Before Blaine could say anything, Finn turned to him, looking amused. "No seriously, for someone so smart and spends his whole life watching movies like _The Notebook, _you really don't know shit about this dating stuff do you?"

Blaine punched Finn in the arm, a little insulted but he knew Finn wasn't serious. But still. _Ouch._

"Maybe Kurt wanted you to text him? For you to tell him that you had a good time?" Finn said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." Blaine blinked up at the trees surrounding the park, and Finn scoffed. "That makes sense."

"Yeah, I know it does." Finn picked up the last ball and they turned around. "Now, this time you can pitch to me."

"Do you think I should tell Kurt about my mom?" Blaine asked after they were about halfway back.

Finn shrugged, hiking the bag higher up on his shoulder. "Um, I mean. I guess. He would want to know about it, I think. He's just trying to help you dude," Finn paused and smirked down at Blaine, "and maybe cop a feel along the way, if you catch my drift."

"Oh my god, Finn. Stop," Blaine said, but he started laughing in spite of himself. He pushed Finn, and ran ahead of him. "You suck so much."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Finn called, jogging to catch up with his friend. "But seriously, did you get a little _something-something _last night after your date?"

Blaine felt a blush work up his cheeks and he shook his head. "No. But we did hold hands. If that counts."

Finn stopped walking and just stared at Blaine.

"What?" Blaine said, feeling a little self-conscious. "What?"

"Nothing," said Finn, shaking his head and started walking again. "It's just that you are so far gone dude, it's not even funny."

Blaine shrugged off the comment, but his face was now a bright red. "That doesn't help me tell Kurt about how I lied to my mom and said he was a girl. I'm not really good at talking about my, well, _feelings, _or whatever—"

"Unless you're hysterically crying—" interjected Finn.

"Wow, shut up. You are not helping me, Finn. You're supposed to be my best friend and you are not doing your job." Blaine said.

"Well, why don't you write him another note? You liked that, right? And it's probably easier and avoids giving Kurt a ride through the waterworks."

Blaine ignored the dig about his crying and nodded. It was a good idea, and he couldn't believe that he didn't even think about this before. Writing a note would be so much easier than trying to say it out loud.

"Finn, you are a genius."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know." Finn said, sighing and puffing out his chest impressively.

Blaine looked over his shoulder at him.

"Math."

**OKAY. So this is the part where you ignore the fact that I've been terrible at updating lately and read my plea for help! So, I am working on another story and it deals with cyberbullying a bit. It's not completely centered around that, but its a big part of the story and I was wondering if anyone has any experiences with that? I don't want anybody to relive experiences they would rather not, so if your not comfortable with sharing, please don't! But anyway, I just want to talk to people who have a tumblr or similar blog and are very active within the Glee fandom, and talk to people online. I know this is a strange request but it will make sense if you message me, lol. You can either PM me on here, or I do have a tumblr, but it's not really glee related. The username is wordsoftheprophet.**

**I'm not looking for a beta, I have a wonderful one, but I just want to talk with you:) Also, if you feel like you have a connection with a celebrity (not just "omfg they're so hot," but I guess I can't say anything, because that's totally me), be it Darren Criss, Lea Michele, Chris Colfer, or hell- even Will Smith, I want to ask you a question. Okay now that you all think I'm crazy...it will make sense once this story is over and I start the next one I promise!**


	25. Chapter 25

**You will probably be able to tell that I had too much fun writing this letter. It's just so much better now that Blaine is more comfortable, _sigh. _Anyway, thank you all for responding to the A/N yesterday! I literally have all you guys' stories saved in a word document and I will use them when I get to writing that part of my next story :3 they were ALL helpful and I can't wait for you guys to read the fic- after this one is finished of course!**

_Dear Kurt, _

_ It's a lot easier to tell you things this way. Don't take it as an insult- you're a very easy person to talk to. I guess it's one of those "it's-me-not-you" things. Except I'm not breaking up with you. I mean we're not together but theoretically speaking I wouldn't even break up with you then. Anyway._

_ You know how on Friday you said that you were proud of me? Well don't be. I'm no farther out of the closet than I was a month ago. You see, my mom thought that I was dating Finn. Now before you throw away this note or something, listen to the story: after you found out that it was me writing the notes, I was pretty...distressed. And Finn came over and was a good friend, but needless to say, we had the door to my bedroom shut so no one would overhear why I was so upset. But of course, all my mom saw was Finn going in, the door shut, and me coming out happy. For some strange reason she immediately jumped to the conclusion that I was totally making-out with your step-brother. The way she thought like that made me think that she already had some previous suspicions. About me. Then she didn't speak to me for more than a week.._

_ And for the record me and Finn were not making out._

_ Okay and here is the worst part that you are totally allowed to slap me in the face for because I totally deserve it. When we went out on Friday, my mom sort of found out that I was going on a date (she found this out via annoying little sister) and I may have told her that I was going out with a girl. Named Katy. And then on Saturday when I went to the park with Finn, I told her I was going with Frank- an imaginary person on my track team. So long story short, my mom was happy that I was going out with a girl and I wanted her to talk to me again so I lied and now I'm here. Also my Dad keeps saying these things and I think he knows about you but if I know my dad he's not going to straight up ask me anything, he's going to wait for me to come to him or something and I can't do that, Kurt. I would ask you to help me but I don't know what you could do. It's me, isn't it?_

_ I didn't mean it like that- you don't have to do me. I meant that it has to be me that fixes this with my parents. That's the worst part. It sort of sucks when your mom doesn't talk to you and pretty much bans your best friend from your house._

_ -I think you know who is writing these by now_

_P.S. Are you a broom?_

_Because you swept me off my feet._


	26. Chapter 26

** I can't believe this story has FIVE HUNDRED REVIEWS OH MY GOSH GUYS WHY. All you guys are too awesome and I may or may not be getting emotional right now :'3**

**I'm done- now enjoy the chapter!**

Blaine woke up early Monday morning and got up to get dressed. He was planning on running a lap or two before school started, and also placing his note in Kurt's locker before anyone was there to see him.

When he opened his drawer to grab a pair of work-out pants and a shirt, he saw the sweater that Kurt had bought him, folded nice and neat on top of his shirts. Puzzled, he took it out, noting the perfect creases that could only be made by one person he knew—his mother.

He frowned, but took the sweater out anyway. His mother hadn't done his laundry in years, ever since he learned how to do it. Blaine couldn't decide if it delighted or disturbed him that his mother was apparently happier with him than she had been in a long time. All because Blaine knew how to lie.

He shrugged and closed the drawer, trying to tell himself that it didn't matter. It certainly did, but Blaine had to get a move on if he wanted to beat the rest of the student population to school. He pulled on a pair of jeans and, after a very short debate, the sweater he bought with Kurt on Friday. When he looked in the mirror in his room, he didn't look any different than when he did in the dressing room at the mall. Still as what he perceived as "totally gay", but he could just be paranoid—right?

_Right?_

Sincerely hoping this was the case, he stuffed his running clothes into his backpack and then walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth quickly. He was halfway down the stairs when he stopped, and started to dig through his back pack. _Shit, _he thought. He had left his gel upstairs.

With his gel placed safely inside the front pocket of his bag, he crept out the front door and pulled it shut behind him.

The school was almost deserted when he got there, and except for the random student or two, he was alone for the most part. When he got to Kurt's locker, he slowed to a stop and looked both ways down the hallway. When he was sure it was empty, he slipped the note in and scurried away.

He pushed open the door to the men's locker rooms and found it dark. It was actually kind of creepy, and Blaine really felt like he was in a horror movie as he ran his hand along the wall. He found theswitch and flipped on the lights, watching as the fluorescent lights flickered and blinked on throughout the room.

Blaine stuffed his backpack in his small, red locker and took out his running pants and t-shirt, pulling them on as fast as possible. This room was unbelievably creepy.

The cold air bit him as he started his first lap and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself to keep warm. To distract himself, he started to think of what he was going to get his family and Finn for Christmas. He figured that he should get something for Kurt too, but he was worried. Was it too soon? Well, they were friends, right?

With a smile, Blaine thought of holding Kurt's hand. _Definitely more than friends._

But what could he get him? Something to do with clothes ought to please him, Blaine thought, but he wondered if he should get something more personal. Or was that too soon, too? Because the only thing he thought of when he pictured a personal gift was something like jewelry. And Blaine really liked Kurt, but he wasn't quite sure he wanted to wear a ring. Kurt probably didn't either.

Blaine knew what he was going to get Finn: the new Call of Duty video game. That was an easy one—in fact, Blaine had already ordered it in advance so he didn't have to pay a lot of shipping. Milly was also easy to please. Anything that had to do with Barbie could excite her to no end. He still hadn't bought her gift yet, but he knew exactly what he was going to get her: a remote control car with four seats—enough room for Barbie, Ken, and their two little kids. It was actually really cool, and Blaine wouldn't admit it out loud but he couldn't wait to mess with it.

For his Dad, he had already purchased a nice sports coat, and for his mother, a set of bracelets that came with blue and orange jewels on them. The vindictive part of him felt that he shouldn't even give his mother a gift this year, but the rational part of him knew that this would be incredibly childish and immature.

Now on his third lap, Blaine let his mind wander back to Kurt. This wasn't an unusual path for his mind to take, but he was a little worried about the note he had placed in Kurt's locker. It was a bit different than before, since Kurt knew who was writing to him. Even though Blaine had written many other letters, it felt like _Blaine _was writing to Kurt, not just some faceless boy. Would Kurt read the notes in a different way, too?

The note took him the usual amount of time to write, about five minutes. This was how he always wrote his notes to Kurt: quickly and honestly. And he always used a pen. Using a pen probably made for some weird words on his part, but Blaine knew that if he didn't do all of this, he would end up making a detailed outline of each note. And instead of getting short, honest, and sometimes pathetic notes, the boy would get an English essay.

_Well, he got one of those anyway, _Blaine thought, and smiled. Then he smiled some more because, _wow, _that felt good. He hadn't been able to think about the embarrassment of Kurt finding out who wrote the notes without cringing and wanting to live in a cave.

Once he crossed the line for the fifth time, Blaine slowed to a stop and rested his hands on his knees, his head bowed as he tried to catch his breath. The sun was higher up in the sky now, and Blaine figured that he needed to get back in soon if he wanted to take a quick shower before class.

* * *

><p>After taking a shower in the still-deserted and still-creepy locker room, Blaine walked back to his locker to get dressed. On the way, he passed what he knew was Kurt's locker sophomore year.<p>

They had had gym together. Blaine remembered that year very vividly, and he wondered if Kurt ever even noticed that Blaine was in his class.

It was fourth period, and Blaine, who usually looked forward to gym anyway, was always the first one in the locker room and the first one changed. Then he would walk past Kurt's locker, to see if he could catch a glimpse of him without his shirt on. This dream was actually quickly crushed—Blaine soon learned that Kurt changed in the bathroom stalls. After that, Blaine took frequent trips to the bathroom.

Blaine wondered if Kurt ever remembered playing with him. Every gym class, Blaine would count the boys in line and strategically place himself in a spot that would put him on Kurt's team. He wondered if Kurt could recall the one time Blaine had been made a team captain, and he got to choose who was on his team.

Of course he couldn't have chosen Kurt first to be on his team, since that would be suspicious. He had waited until there were four people left before he chose Kurt, who always seemed to get chosen last. Blaine remembered how the rest of the boys groaned and asked why Blaine chose _him. _Blaine just shrugged. "He's fast," he said. Then he flashed a smile at Kurt, who didn't return it. Maybe Kurt thought that Blaine was making fun of him or something. And it's not like Blaine had ever given Kurt a reason to trust him, or think that he liked him as a friend or anything else. This was even before Finn's mom and Kurt's dad started dating. Blaine hoped Kurt remembered this, but he doubted it.

* * *

><p>Blaine got a text during his second period, and he opened his phone under his desk while his teacher had her back to the class. It was from Kurt. He closed his phone quickly and dropped the phone in his backpack—he wasn't ready to read it.<p>

Or he thought he wasn't. About a minute later, he reached into his backpack again and grabbed his phone, turning it over and over in his hand while keeping his eyes trained on his teacher. What if Kurt was mad at him?

He opened the text without looking. Then read it as quick as possible. It said '_we need to talk_'. Blaine felt his heart drop to his feet before his phone vibrated again with another text from Kurt. He quickly pressed it between his hands so the vibrations were muted. He opened the new text nervously.

_That sounded bad. What I meant to say was, do you want to talk?_

"Mr. Anderson? Do you want to read that out loud?"

Blaine jumped and immediately shut his phone and shoved it in his backpack. He shook his head, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment as all the students turned their heads to stare at him, some of them laughing. Blaine looked up and tried to give his most winning smile.

A girl next to him giggled, and Blaine looked over at her, his smile slightly faded. He wasn't sure if he was laughing at him or with him. Anyway, the teacher seemed to think that Blaine's texting was no longer a threat to her classroom and she turned back to the board, returning to her lesson.

Blaine didn't risk answering Kurt's text message for the rest of his lesson. Mrs. Longo was a very strict woman, and Blaine got off easy earlier. If he got caught with his phone out again he had no doubt that she would do the honor of reading his texts out loud herself.

As soon as the bell rang, Blaine packed up his stuff and pulled out his phone and answered Kurt's text message with a simple '_yes_'. He shouldered his backpack and stood up, not noticing the girl next to him—who seemed to be waiting.

"Looked like an important text," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she picked up her own bag. Blaine just nodded and walked down the aisle. The girl, who Blaine was pretty sure was named Marie, followed him.

She made Blaine kind of nervous. They had recently got a new seating chart and Blaine noticed how pleased she looked as she took her seat next to him. It's not like it wasn't flattering or whatever—it's just that Blaine didn't like to hang out with girls. They always seemed to notice things that boys normally didn't. Like the fact that Blaine wasn't attracted to them.

"Someone special?" Marie pressed, walking close to him as they exited the classroom. Blaine just laughed and shook his head. "No, it was, uh, just my mom."

Marie gave him a smile that said she didn't believe him the tiniest bit. "Aah, I see. Well, I've got to head to class, but here." She dug out a sharpie from her bag and grabbed Blaine's hand. "Now you'll have someone more interesting to text than your mom." On his palm she wrote her number in thick black ink.

"Oh," he said, his mind had wandered off completely. How did people do this? Just put themselves out there and not even care what other people think about them? Blaine figured that if he were this outgoing and carefree, he and Kurt would probably have been dating for _years. _"Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said, looking very pleased with herself. She walked off the opposite direction, leaving Blaine to stare dumbfound after her. He set off towards his class, walking quickly so he wasn't late.

Marie was a very pretty girl. In fact, if Blaine were attracted to girls, she would probably be someone that he would go after. Smart, nice, and classically pretty. Not to mention she wasn't taller than him, which was always a plus. He felt sort of bad knowing that he had completely led her on, and she probably wasn't going to get a text from Blaine.

When he passed by the cafeteria, he saw members of the hockey team, crouched in the doorway. They were obviously up to no good. Blaine tried to walk faster and looked straight ahead of him, trying to make it seem like he didn't even notice them.

"Hey, Anderson." One of them called. Blaine was almost around the corner, and he sighed. _Why?_

"What's up, Malcolm?" He asked, stepping into the little alcove. Blaine watched as one of the other boys he didn't know put a finger to his lips then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small bag filled with herbs.

"We're gonna go out back and smoke, you wanna come—" Blaine started to shake his head, and they sensed his hesitation, and they added, "—dude, we even got some of the cheerleaders to come."

Blaine tried to shake his head—as if that was a great incentive for him to join them, but he just _had _to go to class. "Nah, I can't, guys. I got class and then I have track practice after school today."

He began to feel uncomfortable as the boys looked at Malcolm like they were saying _I told you so. _Blaine held his hands up again, "Sorry, guys." He quickly backed out of there, leaving the boys. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and Blaine just wanted to get out of there fast. If he had been seen with them and had gotten caught, he could kiss his college education goodbye.

They were still talking after he left and Blaine could just hear them. He stopped walking completely when he heard his name.

"Dude, I told you Blaine wouldn't be up for it. He's never up for anything—" he paused, and Blaine barely heard a murmur of agreement from the group. "Puck just stopped inviting him to parties 'cause he never would come. It's stupid really."

"Shut up, he's alright. Just not a very social guy. You're just mad because Ellie asked him out and she can't stand to be even five feet from you." Malcolm said, and down the hallway Blaine smiled. He had always liked Malcolm.

"Oh yeah, right. The dumbass turned her down—I'm telling you, the dude's not right in the head. Either that or he's a flamer."

"What?"

"Seriously, he turns down Ellie, never goes out, and did you see the sweater he's wearing? _Gay._"

"You're stupid. Why do I bother to share my weed with you?" The bell rang, signaling that Blaine was late for class. "Let's go."

Blaine hurried down the hall as fast as his numb feet could take him. Instead of heading to class, he walked into the bathroom, checking all the stalls to make sure they were empty. After kicking all of them open and seeing no one, Blaine went over to the door to shut it and lock it.

He peeled off his sweater and threw it on the ground, staring at it with the dirtiest look he could muster. Blaine knew it looked incredibly gay, so why did he buy it? And what on earth possessed him to actually wear it to school? Now, because of his stupidity, people were noticing things—things that Blaine worked so hard to bury.

He kicked the wall, staggering backwards with pain in his toes. How could he have been so _dumb?_

Blaine stuffed the sweater into his backpack and straightened up to look into the mirror. His face was a little flushed but he looked alright. He was now in just a plain white t-shirt and dark jeans. At least he wasn't wearing a v-neck or something else incredibly _gay__**.**_

His phone in his pocket started to vibrate, and he pulled it out. _Speak of the devil, _thought Blaine. The message was from Kurt.

_Where are you? I thought you would be here today? Everything okay?_

The message confused him for a little bit, until he remembered that he had been heading to French, a class he had with Kurt. He opened a reply message and was ready to send '_I'm fine I will be there in a second_', but he figured that that would be counterproductive, right? Kurt was trying to help him. Besides, all Blaine was going to get by staying here alone was a very sore toe from kicking the walls.

He typed out a new message.

_no._

It was less than a minute when he got a reply from Kurt. _Where are you?_

Blaine leaned against the sink. _In the bathroom by the caf_

He didn't get a reply, but he did get a quiet knock on the door a few moments later. Blaine zipped his backpack shut and made it look like he was walking out, on the off chance that it wasn't Kurt.

But when he opened the door, it was indeed Kurt, and Blaine stepped back to let him in. Blaine locked the door behind them.

"Are you even allowed to lock these doors?" Kurt asked mildly, setting his bathroom pass down on the sink and perching himself on the side of the one in the middle.

Blaine shrugged. "I'm not really sure. Probably not, but no one uses these bathrooms unless they're in lunch, so..." he dropped his backpack on the floor and stuck his hands into his pockets. He couldn't make himself look into Kurt's eyes. Everything was so _embarrassing._

Kurt just nodded. He swung his legs back and forth, his big army-looking boots tapping the sink in front of him in a steady rhythm. The boots were laced all the way up to Kurt's knee in a complicated looking pattern and had metal buckles with tiny chains dangling from them. _They're kind of hot, _Blaine mused to himself.

"Aren't those heavy?" Blaine asked, coming closer to Kurt, who stopped swinging his legs and looked down at his boots. "Not really. They do look it, don't they?" Blaine just nodded and sat down on the sink next to Kurt, turning his body towards the other boy. His legs were slightly spread so that Kurt's left leg could just barely slip in between so it was comfortable for the both of them.

"I liked your note." Kurt said softly, going back to swinging his feet. Blaine didn't answer.

Then Kurt poked his leg, smiling and saying, "I have one for you!"

_Oh, awesome. _Blaine inwardly sighed. But he tried to ignore this feeling and he looked up at Kurt, his eyebrows raised. "Have what for me?"

"Are you from Tennessee?" Kurt said, leaning into Blaine, biting his lip over a wide grin.

"Wha—"

He poked Blaine on the tip of his nose, "Because you're the only _ten I _see!" Kurt laughed as Blaine felt a deep red blush creep across his face, starting from where Kurt had poked him. Any other time, Blaine probably would have been mortified—for the both of them—but he couldn't help his own smile as he giggled at Kurt's pickup line.

Blaine looked down at his own feet as he wished for his face to cool down. He knew that he was probably bright red at this point.

Kurt pretended to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes. "Yeah, I know, you've probably heard that one before, but I couldn't resist. It's a classic." He paused to clear his throat and bumped his foot against Blaine's. "So you do want to talk about what else was in the note?"

Blaine shrugged—this was what he was putting off. He knew he pretty much asked Kurt to come to him and help, but now that Kurt was here, he felt himself closing off. "Not really, but I guess I should, shouldn't I?"

Kurt's foot hooked around Blaine's heel and swung them back and forth, and Blaine had to bite back a smile because _they were playing footsie._

"Well, only if you want to. I mean, I would like to know why you really felt compelled to give me the lovely nickname of Katy. I never thought I would be someone's girlfriend." Kurt said, looking at the wall with a fake faraway expression.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Blaine apologized, rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs.

"It's okay. I know why you did it." He said, waving his hand in dismissal, but Blaine thought that there was no way there were no hurt feelings. "It just sort of sucks that you feel like you have to do it." _There they are._

Blaine didn't answer and just nodded vaguely in response—because it does suck. It really does.

"How are things with your Dad?"

"Alright, I guess. I don't even know." Blaine sighed, and he kept his eyes on his feet again. He felt Kurt's eyes on him the whole time, and he knew that Kurt was doing that thing where he was reading everything that was going on in Blaine's mind. Or, well, everything that Blaine shoved into his locker.

Kurt nodded silently and, thankfully, changed the subject somewhat. "And the reason you are hiding out in a bathroom?" He smiled. "Not that I don't like cutting class with you, but I don't think that going to the bathroom would have been my first choice for a meeting place."

"Oh. Right." He laughed nervously. He totally realized that asking someone to come and hang out in the bathroom was weird as _hell _and it was a wonder Kurt even bothered to show up at all.

"Did you get slushied or something?" Kurt asked, placing his hand on Blaine's knee.

"What? No!" Blaine exclaimed, but he was more worried about the fact that Kurt was touching him.

Kurt nodded. "I didn't think so, but this is the bathroom I would always go to after I get slushied. It's the only damn bathroom in the school that actually has soap and paper towels. In fact, this sink and I have a very special connection," he said, patting the white porcelain sink he was sitting on.

"You have a special connection with the sink?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Oh yeah, I would always clean up at this sink. I don't know why."

Blaine started to feel awkward at the talk of slushies. "About those slushies..." he started, running a hand along the back of his neck. "I'm sorry—"

"For what? It was never you." Kurt hooked his foot around Blaine's again, who found it hard to speak because of the heavy butterflies in his stomach.

"Uh, it sort of was, though! I never made any attempt to stop them."

"What were you going to do, jump in front of me and block me?" Kurt laughed once and stopped, putting a serious face on. "It's fine. Don't blame yourself for that. There was nothing you could have done, and I didn't expect you to do anything."

That's what Blaine hated. Kurt didn't expect for him to do anything, he had hoped that Kurt had seen a little bit of potential in him before. Although Kurt was exactly right—why would Kurt even expect him to do anything? All he had done was stand in the background and watch as his friends tormented their peers every single day.

"Well, I guess we're kind of in the bathroom for the same reason." Blaine said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, looking confused.

"I wore that sweater we got at the mall," then he paused as he suddenly remembered his and Finn's conversation the other day, "which I had a really awesome time at, by the way! Anyway, these kids said that it looked gay. Not to my face, but I could hear them when I walked away." Blaine cringed as he realized he sounded like a little child who just had his crayons stolen. Whiny.

Luckily for Blaine, Kurt didn't look annoyed, he actually looked concerned. "I'm sorry." He opened his mouth to say something more, and then seemed to decide against it. His hand slid from Blaine's knee to grab his hand, lacing his fingers with Blaine's.

Blaine stared at their hands resting on his leg. Kurt's thumb rubbed gentle circles on the back of Blaine's hand as he stared thoughtfully at them. Then he caught sight of the permanent ink on them.

"What's this?"

"Oh," Blaine said, sliding his hand back into Kurt's so the ink wasn't visible anymore. "Some girl gave me her number—" he started, shaking his head to dismiss the subject. He wondered if Kurt would be jealous.

"Competition for me?" He teased, pulling on Blaine's hand. And before Blaine could answer, he said mock suspiciously, "Is her name Katy?"

Blaine laughed and shook his head. "No, oh my god, no." He tried to wave his wand, but then he remembered that Kurt was _holding his hand. _The idea could never get old to Blaine.

"Well, good. But I guess I don't have to worry, based on what my secret admirer wrote to me." He paused, apparently relishing in Blaine's mortification. '_Secret __admirer'_ sounded worse out loud than on paper. "Did you know I had a secret admirer?" Kurt asked, smiling as Blaine leaned his head back and groaned.

"I like being able to put a face to the notes, though," he said, placing his other hand on Blaine's leg, and Blaine brought his other hand to place in the taller boy's hand. "Although you probably don't feel the same," he laughed.

"No! No, it's—" Blaine started, then shook his head while Kurt kept laughing. "Yeah, no. I guess it's good for you, but not exactly..." he trailed off, biting his lower lip.

"Yes, but now I can answer your letters. Before, all I could do was hope that you got my subliminal messages."

Blaine shook his head. "Sadly, no. I did not get any of those messages." He totally wished he had though—it could have spared him a lot of stress.

"I thought you wouldn't, but I tried. Anyway," Kurt started, leaning forward, "now that I know who is writing these notes and that certain someone is now actually able to make eye contact with me, I think it was time that I asked him about them."

"Really?" Blaine said, and the butterflies were back again. Except this time they felt excited instead of anxious and he looked up at Kurt, who was smiling widely—but it seemed sort of shaky, like he was the nervous one for once.

He nodded, "Yeah. I would just like to let you know that I wouldn't _theoretically _break up with you either. Or, well, if our main communication starts to become notes I think we may have a problem, but I think we're good."

Blaine nodded, fighting to keep the ridiculous smile from his face. "That's good to know." It was quiet for a second while Kurt fidgeted in his seat.

"So, are you still the guy who would like to be my boyfriend?" Kurt asked quietly, still rubbing his thumb over Blaine's hand, who nodded, completely numb all over. His brain had turned to mush, not to mention his heart.

"Cool." Kurt nodded back, and when Blaine looked up he saw a pink flush on the other boy's cheek and he smiled.

"Yeah, cool." He repeated, giving Kurt's hands a tight squeeze.

It was quiet after that, and Blaine didn't feel awkward, but it was sort of a weird feeling. What do you say to a new boyfriend? Should he ask him on another date? He was starting to feel frantic and was ready to burst out with the first thought in his head (an unfortunate habit of his) when Kurt saved him.

"I have to go back to class," he said sadly, hooking his ankle around Blaine's again.

"Now that you've been in the bathroom for half an hour," Blaine laughed, "Mademoiselle Katen is gonna be a little suspicious."

"Oh no, it's an infirmary pass," Kurt said, pulling his hand from Blaine's to reach behind him to grab the pass, holding it up to show him. "And the class was hardly doing anything when I left, I doubt they missed me. But I do need to get back, I guess. Are you coming with me?"

Blaine shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. I'll have to go to the office and get a pass."

"You can't get a pass, you don't have a note," Kurt said, raising an eyebrow at him. "It will just be unexcused." He slipped off the sink, folded the nurse's note and stuck it in his back pocket. Behind him Blaine followed suit and grabbed his bag.

"The office ladies love me. Trust me, I can get a pass," assured Blaine, hiking his backpack over his shoulder. Kurt gave him an incredulous look and walked slowly to the door, where his hand hesitated to unlock it.

Blaine wedged his way in between Kurt and the door. "So, are we like, boyfriends?" He asked, just wanting a confirmation.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. Blaine bit back another face-splitting grin, because Kurt was totally _blushing oh my god could this get any better_. "If you want to be—"

"Oh my god, of course I want to be!" Blaine exclaimed, shaking his head. As if he would say no to that! Kurt seemed to look more confident with this and he nodded again.

"Good. Awesome."

Blaine felt stupid as he continued to stand there. He felt like he should do something. Should he kiss Kurt? Oh god, what if he missed? What if it was just like his last attempted kiss, and he end up kissing Kurt's chin or something weird?

The room seemed to be filled with the sound of Blaine's heart beating loudly. Kurt was leaning in, and Blaine's brain—which still hadn't completely recovered from being reduced to mush a few minutes ago—couldn't think. Kurt was still leaning in, so, _so _slowly, but for what? He found himself staring at Kurt's mouth—he could do this.

He laughed nervously, breaking the silence in the room—and seemed to also break whatever emotion Kurt was feeling because he stopped leaning in.

_Wait, wait. No! That's not what I wanted! _Blaine's mind screamed furiously, but he had no idea how to make Kurt do that _thing _he was doing a second ago. Kurt smiled at him, (a smile that made Blaine suspiciously think that he was laughing at him) and made to move around him, but Blaine stopped him with a hand.

Kurt's lips were _right there._

_I can do this_, he thought, _I can do this. _He stepped forward, continuing his mantra in his head. But instead of kissing him, Blaine squeezed his eyes shut as he felt himself chickening out, and giving Kurt a tight hug.

He kept his eyes shut as Kurt snuck his own arms around Blaine's neck, drawing him closer. Blaine's palms were flat on his back, the tips of his fingers slightly scrunching of the fabric of Kurt's shirt.

Blaine could have totally stayed there forever. His cheek felt warm from where it was touching Kurt's neck, and he turned his head so that he could smell Kurt's hair. Not in a creepy way, or at least he hoped it wasn't in a creepy way. He just liked the way Kurt smelled.

When Kurt finally started to pull away, Blaine fought the urge to pull Kurt back in. He felt cold as he smiled at Kurt and unlocked the door behind him. Once they were outside in the empty hallway, they headed off in opposite directions.

"See you in class," Kurt said, and Blaine knew that he could totally kiss Kurt right now. That's what couples do, right? They say goodbye, and then a quick peck, and then they text each other and send cutesy messages until they see each other again.

But Kurt had already waved and was walking away, a small smile on his face. Blaine could take this instead of a kiss—because he knew he was the reason the smile was there in the first place. He could get used to that.

Blaine made his way towards the office, a happy spring in his step. On the way, he passed the alcove where the boys were earlier. He smirked to himself.

_Losers, _he thought, crossing his arms in front of his chest. _They_ _don't have a super cool boyfriend._


	27. Chapter 27

**Sorry this took a little longer than expected- the original outline was just a huge sloppy mess and it was bad. **

**Anyway, before you read this chapter have a moment of appreciation for my beta, ikot-ikot, who puts up with my being stupid on a weekly basis. No really, they should get a medal for not slapping me!:P**

**Enjoy the chapter! :3**

The next couple of weeks, Blaine felt like he was on top of the world. He couldn't believe that this was his life now, complete with an awesome and super-hot boyfriend. He literally thought that he could take over the world, complete with Kurt by his side.

(Although there was still the problem that he had every intention of keeping his and Kurt's relationship a secret from everybody, save for the exception of Finn, but that could be dealt with later. Now he had to focus on being a good boyfriend, which involved going out on dates, watching movies and holding hands and _kissing._)

The excitement and the thrill of this made Blaine wonder why he had not decided to become Kurt's boyfriend sooner. Well, he knew exactly why this was the case, but that didn't matter because right now he had Kurt and everything was good.

In fact, on his fifteenth day of being Kurt's boyfriend, Blaine was practically skipping to lunch, planning on eating with the glee kids, when he was intercepted by a very nervous looking Finn. All the good feelings that Blaine had flushed right out of his body. The way Finn was shifting from foot to foot made Blaine's own toes feel cold.

"I'm sorry, dude—" Finn started, but Blaine pushed him into the locker.

"What did you do?" He demanded, surprised that his attempt at being intimidating was working. This was a rare feat for Blaine, seeing that Finn was about six inches taller than him.

"I told them—" Finn started, but Blaine was already freaked out. If Finn told people that he and Kurt were going out, or even talking to each other, his life would be over. Not to mention the horrible treatment would come back, and Kurt would probably be dumped into trashcans every day, and Blaine would be powerless to stop it.

"Blaine, calm down! I told them that you had a girlfriend," Finn got out, holding his hands up in defense. "People were talking… about you. So, I told them you had a girlfriend to make them stop."

_Great, _Blaine thought. At this rate, he would actually have to find a girlfriend, now that the whole school plus his mother thought he had one.

"Sorry! And also, I told them that like, you were dating a girl from that prep school in Westerville, so act like you're getting a lot—"

"_What?_"

"Yeah, I don't know man. They kept asking me if you were dating a slut or whatever, I don't know. Apparently girls are sluts there, with their little outfits and stuff..." he trailed off, and Finn sort of got this faraway look on his face, and Blaine angrily snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Finn! What else did you tell them?" He asked urgently.

"Uh, nothing. I didn't tell them a name or anything. She just goes to a prep school—and uh, yeah. I pretty much saved your ass dude, though. So you can't be that mad." Finn reminded him, and Blaine nodded. He was right, unfortunately.

"Yeah. I know." Blaine sighed and leaned back on the locker. This sucked, big time. Now he had to act like he had a girlfriend at home _and _at school. Another thought occurred to him, and he turned his head to Finn.

"How does one act like he's getting some?" He asked curiously.

Finn tipped his head to the side thoughtfully. "You know, I'm not really sure. Rachel isn't one to put out a lot. She likes musicals." He closed his eyes, "_So _many musicals."

Blaine just nodded. That really didn't help a lot.

"Oh! Blaine!" Finn punched him in the arm excitedly. While Blaine rubbed his arm and glared, the taller boy burst out, "Act like Puck!"

"Puck?" Blaine narrowed his eyes, he was literally two seconds away from punching Finn back. In the nose.

"Yeah! Just do what he does, talk about sex a lot!"

"But I don't even know the first thing about sex! Can't I be a good boyfriend to my fake girlfriend without talking about our sex lives?" He asked, hitching up his backpack on his shoulder from where it was slipping. People were casting strange looks their way.

"Not if you're a guy—and how do you not know about sex? You're like, almost an adult!" Finn exclaimed and Blaine waved his hands, signaling for him to not be so loud.

"Straight guys can be good too, and not talk about sex with their girlfriends?" Blaine said quietly and shook his head, "No wonder girls don't stay with them too long. And yeah, thanks. You're talking to pretty much the biggest virgin to ever walk the planet."

"Just because you're a virgin doesn't mean you can't know stuff about sex. Don't you watch, like, porn?" Finn replied, just as loudly as before. Blaine shot him a look, "Oh my god Finn, use your damn _inside voice. _And not the same kind you do, Finn. But anyway, why are we talking about this? I need to tell Kurt that now I apparently have a girlfriend. Do you think he'll be mad?"

"Nah, why would he be? He will understand why."

Blaine shook his head slowly. "But it's different now. We're actually dating now," he sighed.

"Hardly." Finn muttered, now taking out his phone to play with it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, even though he knew exactly what it meant. A _boyfriend _is someone who holds your hand in the hallway, and takes you out every night and kisses you good morning and sends cute texts messages.

Finn just shrugged.

"You're right," Blaine said, sounding defeated. "I can't call him my boyfriend if I feel the need to tell everybody I have a girlfriend just to hide our relationship. Worst boyfriend ever."

Finn still didn't say anything, and Blaine took that as an agreement to his worst-boyfriend-ever-ness. The hall was nearly empty now, as most kids had either made their way to class or to lunch, and Blaine didn't bother to whisper anymore.

"I don't think he's going to be understanding for that much longer, Finn."

"Look, your senior year is almost half over. Then you'll be free—just hang on until then." He responded, apparently now deciding to be a good friend. Blaine scoffed and kicked his toe on the ground. _That was easy for him to say_—_a lot can happen in six months. Just look at how much happened in like, three._

But Blaine nodded anyway; he didn't need to get on a verbal spiel of how much his life sucked. "Yeah, I guess so. You wanna chill after school?"

"Nah, I can't. I'm going over to Puck's house. You wanna come too? Sam is going to be there, maybe Mike. I'm not sure, but you're totally welcome if you want." He offered.

Blaine shook his head, "Actually, I think I'm going to see what Kurt is doing. We haven't really hung out like, actually just sat down and watched a movie or something."

Finn nodded, and held up his hands. "Oh, okay. You guys can _watch _a movie. I get it. I will steer clear of the house then, and give you two all the time you need."

"_Oh my god_, Finn. Stop, it's not like that." Blaine realized the sad part was that it actually wasn't. He thought about telling Finn that he and Kurt hadn't even _kissed _yet, but he decided not to give any more reason for Finn to make fun of him.

"Yeah, okay. Later dude, I gotta go talk to Mr. Schue. And remember—act like you're having lots of sex with a prep school girl!"

"Thanks! Best advice ever!" Blaine said after him. Shaking his head, he pushed through the cafeteria doors, immediately seeing the Glee kids sitting at one table and four tables down, a mixture of the track and football team.

Blaine stalled by the door, confused as to which seat he should take. He thought that Finn was going to eat lunch with him, at the Glee table. But now that it was just Blaine, it would look really weird if he went and sat down next to Kurt, the only other person he actually knew at the Glee table. Well, there was Rachel, but they were just friendly acquaintances at best.

Over at the Glee table, Kurt had caught his eye and looked pointedly at the chair next to him. Four tables down, a boy named Mark saw Blaine and started to wave him over. Blaine made up his mind and started walking towards Mark, not able to look at Kurt.

The whole lunch period Blaine felt the guilt claw at his insides. He halfheartedly answered his teammates' questions about his "girlfriend." He made one up on the spot—luckily Finn didn't see what she looked like. The girl was Katy once again, and she had brown hair.

Under the table he brought out his phone, opening a text message to Kurt. It was one word.

_Sorry_

Blaine resisted the urge to watch as Kurt opened the message, and he tried to laugh at the jokes being made by the boys around him. A few moments later his phone buzzed with a reply from Kurt.

_You need to stop saying that_

Blaine typed out a reply (_well maybe I need to stop doing things that make me sorry_) and gathered his trash to go throw it away, passing right by Kurt at his table. He watched as Kurt leaned his elbow on the table, propping up his head his palm. There was a slight frown on his face.

Back at the table Blaine brought out his own phone, under the table again, away from his friends' eyes. They all noticed Blaine texting and immediately started teasing him about talking to his girlfriend. Blaine just shook his head and smiled; he finished typing out a message and looked up. "Jealous, much?" He said, and the boys all laughed and reached over to punch Blaine in the arm.

_Well I'm not mad so stop worrying. Blaine I was very aware of what I was signing up for when I became your boyfriend._

Blaine still got a nervous fluttering in his stomach whenever Kurt said the word boyfriend. He would never get tired of it—being reminded that he has a _boyfriend. _Whenever he thought about Kurt, his problems seemed to melt away, but they just seemed to come back full force whenever he was at school, or at his own house. He wanted this _so bad, _but there was always something nagging at him.

_Yeah well i'm a pretty crap boyfriend if you ask me. _He typed back. Blaine had stopped paying attention to what was going on at the table and focused on his phone, waiting for a reply. It seemed a little ridiculous, seeing that his conversation partner was ten feet away from him.

_No! I think you're a good bf:) you take me shopping and stuff, you wrote me love notes, and you're pretty cute if I do say so myself_

Blaine smiled down at his phone. An excited heat spread throughout his chest and he fought back a laugh, because this was so _cool. _He had never felt this way and he looked over at Kurt, who was already looking his way.

_Aw thanks. anyway are you doing anything after school today? _Blaine paused, debating on whether to add more. His thumbs ran over the keys, and he kept typing. _Then you can tell me how cute I am in private;)_

_nope, and that always sounds like a good plan:)_

_I don't mean to invite myself over, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at your place? Can't really go to mine:/_

_Yeah that sounds great:) and can I have a ride? Finns going over to pucks and he's taking the car soo_

_yeah sure! Meet me by my car. _Blaine looked up from his phone just as the bell rang. He caught Kurt's eye briefly, but just long enough to share a small, private smile with him.

* * *

><p>Blaine climbed out of his car at Kurt's house. He decided to leave his bag in the car, and he followed Kurt up the path to the front door. He realized that he was standing a little closer than he should have while Kurt was unlocking the door, but that was okay—he could <em>do <em>that now.

The house was oddly quiet without Finn lumbering in behind them. Kurt dropped his own bag in the kitchen quickly and turned around, bumping right into Blaine, who had been following close behind.

"Sorry," he laughed, placing his hands on Blaine's shoulder's and side-stepping around him. "It's fine," Blaine responded, laughing with him. His skin was thrumming with nerves, Kurt was _so close _to him. As Kurt's hands slid from his shoulders down to Blaine's waist and pulled him in close, Blaine's arms circled easily around Kurt's neck.

They stayed like that for a few moments and Blaine had his eyes closed when Kurt pulled away, grabbing his hand instead and pulling him up the stairs. "Come on," he said, "we can go hang out in my room."

Blaine had been in Kurt's room only a few times before, and he wasted no time looking around at all the knick-knacks packed on the shelves. It should have been cluttered, but with Kurt's arrangements, everything was pristine. All white and beige and blue, and Blaine would have imagined a room a bit more sparkly, but this seemed to fit Kurt perfectly. On the middle shelf, Blaine spotted a picture and he picked it up.

Inside the silver frame was a color photo of a woman and a boy that Blaine recognized as Kurt. The older version of the boy in the picture walked up beside him. "That's my mom," he said, gently taking the photo from Blaine and placing it back on the shelf. Kurt turned Blaine away from the shelves by his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"We should play a game!"

Blaine nodded slowly. "Okay? What kind of game." At first he pictured them sitting around a table playing Monopoly or something, but then he thought of a better game. He suddenly wished that maybe Kurt liked strip poker. Blaine had no idea how to actually play poker, but he was sure he could figure it out well enough.

"A game where we get to know each other." Kurt said, biting his lip. Blaine nodded again and kept his mouth closed, just in case he actually said his thoughts out loud. The last thing he wanted was to Kurt to know that he was a total creeper—

_Oh wait._

"But you already know me." Blaine said, clearly referencing the huge elephant in the room. You know, the one about where Blaine had pretty much told Kurt everything about him via notes.

"Yes, that's true. But not enough, and you don't know me as well as I know you." Kurt stated, and Blaine gave him a disbelieving look.

"I know your favorite color is blue." He said, sitting down on the edge of Kurt's bed.

"Did I tell you that?" Kurt asked, tilting his head to the left. Then he made to sit down next to Blaine, but ended up lying flat on his back. He pulled the back of Blaine's t-shirt so that he was lying next to him, and Kurt laced their fingers together immediately.

"No, you wear a lot of blue." Blaine blushed, watching as their hands moved from side to side between them. He had to look slightly upwards to see Kurt's face, and his breath hitched when he realized how close they were.

"Okay. What is your favorite food?" Kurt asked, smiling down and Blaine. He wriggled his body a little lower so that he was eye to eye with Blaine.

"Ice cream," Blaine answered promptly. "And yours?"

Kurt thought about it for a second. "Almonds," he said decisively.

"Almonds?" Blaine asked, looking over to give his boyfriend a strange look.

"Yeah, I know. I like nuts—" he said matter-of-factly. "They're good—"

_Oh wow, he walked right into that one, _Blaine thought and then snickered. "Really?" He said, nodding his head in agreement. "I sort of like nuts too."

Kurt covered his face with his free hand. "Oh my god, stop! What I _mean _is they're healthy and they have lots of uses—"

"Yes, lots of uses—" Blaine once again agreed.

"and—_Blaine._ You are so dirty." Kurt removed his hand from his eyes. He also pulled his hand away from Blaine's and rolled over on his side, so that he was looking down at Blaine. "I don't know if this relationship is going to work out if you're a total sleaze bag," he teased.

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "I thought you said that you knew exactly what you were getting into when you became my boyfriend. Besides, you should have known I was a total sleaze bag from those notes I sent you." He paused, and he tried to keep his eyes locked on Kurt's forehead. He couldn't look into Kurt's eyes without melting and he knew that he would definitely be confirming the fact that he's creepy by staring at Kurt's lips.

But Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to have no qualms about staring right at Blaine's mouth. Kurt's hand came to rest on his stomach, and Blaine totally forgot about not staring at Kurt's mouth because it _was right there._

"You're cute," Kurt said, and Blaine could have died of shame at his nervous giggle, but he realized he wouldn't have time to because Kurt was leaning in _oh my god. _Blaine felt himself still, and he suddenly worried if this breath smelled okay—what did he eat for lunch again?

Kurt's lips were soft and warm and wet, and they moved together with Blaine's nicely. Blaine could hear the blood pounding in his ears, but every other sound seemed to be amplified too. The rustling of the bed cover as Kurt shifted slightly to get a better angle and the way they both breathed heavily out their noses seemed to be deafening and it took a few seconds for them to get a rhythm without bumping with each other's noses. Blaine felt his hands shaking, and brought his left hand up to his stomach, where it was just a warm pressure. His right hand was trapped half-underneath Kurt.

When Kurt pulled away first, Blaine almost whimpered at the loss of contact. He reached his head up and lightly pecked Kurt's lips before either of them could say anything. Kurt smiled and laughed, although it was kind of shaky.

"That was my first kiss." Blaine blurted out, and Kurt nodded. He unclenched his hand from where it was grabbing onto Blaine's shirt.

"I know," he said, then paused slightly. "Mine too." Then Kurt kissed him again, and Blaine may have lost track of time after that. His eyes were still open—he kind of liked watching the way Kurt' lashes fluttered and how he could barely see the way Kurt's lips moved with his own. He quickly realized that his own eyes should be shut, and he closed them.

It was Kurt who pulled away again. He looked sheepishly down at Blaine, who just stared back. He was still a little lost—because _wow _that actually just happened. He is lying on Kurt Hummel's bed and kissing him.

"This is weird. I never thought I would be kissing you. Maybe in my dreams," Blaine admitted, and Kurt laughed, sounding relieved and collapsed on his back next to Blaine.

"You think it's weird for you? If someone told me six months ago I would be going out with a football player I would have thought they were on very, very strong drugs." He looked over at Blaine and poked his side. "Yeah, this is kind of weird."

"But the good weird," said Blaine. Slowly, Kurt nodded. "Yeah," he said, "the good kind of weird." He smiled, and Blaine felt himself smile and he started laughing. This time, he rolled onto his side and was looking down at Kurt. He brought his hand to rest on Kurt's warm, solid side. He squeezed his fingers into Kurt's side—just to make sure that this was real, and that he wasn't going to wake up any second.

_Definitely real, _he thought, and he pressed his lips to Kurt's a little bit more fervently. The boy under him responded with the same amount of enthusiasm, and Blaine smiled into the kiss.

He could totally get used to this.

* * *

><p>Blaine found himself making every possible excuse to kiss Kurt.<p>

Whenever he was at Finn's house, or well, both Finn and Kurt's house, he would make excuses to leave and go find Kurt, wherever he was. Just so that he could get the satisfaction he could only get from Kurt's lips.

At first, he tried to be really sneaky about making excuses to go kiss Kurt, but after a while, he just started telling Finn. After all, most of the time, Finn wasn't doing much more than homework.

Blaine was worried that Finn would be upset, but usually all he got when he told Finn he was going to find Kurt was a wave in his general direction and a "_use protection._"

The days counting down to Christmas break seemed to fly by. His day started to revolve around when he was going to see Kurt next, and when he was going to be able to kiss him. He knew it was really pathetic, and he should probably pace their time together so they don't burn out the honeymoon phase _too fast, _but Blaine couldn't help it.

Also, the love struck expression he was always wearing matched his girlfriend story—which worked out perfectly. Everything was almost great, except for the fact that Blaine still hadn't told Kurt that he had a fake girlfriend.

He was actually surprised that Kurt hadn't heard about it yet—but then again, Kurt was never one to listen to gossip that didn't revolve around his Glee club anyway.

Blaine also knew that he needed to tell Kurt soon. It's not like he thought Kurt would be mad—it's just the more that he waited, the more it seemed like he was trying to hide it.

But every time Blaine went to tell Kurt, he did something distracting, like kiss him.

Then, the day right before break, Blaine decided that he had to tell Kurt. Today. Before any more time passed, and then Kurt might be a little upset. He had texted Kurt during last period, and had made plans to take him back to his house.

He knew that it was a little risky, but he wanted to show Kurt that he wasn't completely paranoid. Besides, no one was home on Friday afternoons when Blaine got home. At least, not for about two or three hours—plenty of time for them to hang out.

He met Kurt by his car, and they drove back to Blaine's house. As soon as they were behind the door, Blaine pulled him in by the waist, kissing him firmly on the lips. "I could really never get tired of that," he muttered against Kurt's mouth.

Kurt laughed and set his bag down by the door. He allowed Blaine to pull him through the house and into the kitchen. Kurt had never been inside Blaine's house before, or at least not anywhere besides the foyer when he picked Finn up before. He stopped and looked at the baby photos lining the wall, pointing at one in particular.

"Oh my god, Blaine. This is so cute! Look at your hair!" He gushed. Blaine groaned and tried to pull Kurt back towards the kitchen.

After taking another look, they went into the kitchen, Kurt still laughing behind him. "Is that what your hair looks like when it's not gelled?"

Blaine looked over his shoulder from where he was digging through the refrigerator. "There's a reason why I gel my hair." He brought out a soda and offered one to Kurt, who declined. He set his drink on the counter next to Kurt, and rested an arm on either side of him. "You want some nuts instead?" he asked, smiling when Kurt scoffed indignantly and shoved him lightly in the chest.

"You are never going to let that go, are you?"

Blaine smiled, "Never." He brought his hands up to cup Kurt's jaw, bringing him in for a slow and lazy kiss. He stepped forward slightly, bringing them even closer together.

"_Blaine and Kurt sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage-"_

The two boys sprang apart immediately. Kurt looked down at the floor and seemed to shrink into himself, trying to disappear. Blaine tried to compose himself, his head was spinning.

"_Then comes the baby in the baby carriage!"_

Blaine straightened his shirt out and yelled, "Milly! What are you doing here?"

Milly, who was in a pink nightdress, rocked back and forth on her heels. "I'm sick," she said, then gave an unconvincing cough. Then, "Why were you kissing Kurt?" she asked.

Blaine felt his heard pounding in his chest, and his stomach seemed to turn to lead. It was all over, Milly would no doubt tell their parents—as the girl had no filter. He looked desperately to Kurt for help, but he seemed just as panicked as Blaine was.

Then Blaine rushed to Milly, leaning down so that they were eye-to-eye. "Milly," he said, trying to make his voice serious and less shaky. "You need to promise me that you won't tell Mom and Dad that I was kissing Kurt, okay?"

She seemed to ponder for a moment. "Why not? Is it because you have a girlfriend?" Milly gasped, "Are you cheating on her?"

"No!" Blaine shook his head. Then in his gentlest voice he said, "Kurt is my girlfriend—"

"But Kurt's a boy," she said, and they both looked back at Kurt who had his arms crossed, very much agreeing with that fact.

"I know. But—he's, uh. I like Kurt like a girlfriend." Blaine used his hand to turn Milly's cheek so she was facing him and not staring at Kurt with her mouth open. "Do you understand?"

"But Kurt's a boy." She said again, clearly lost.

Blaine sighed. "Okay. Milly, listen. You can't tell Mom and Dad that I was kissing Kurt, okay?"

"But why aren't you allowed to kiss Kurt?" She asked, twirling back and forth. Blaine now placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to keep her still.

He shook his head, "Don't worry about that. I-I'll buy you chocolate. And, uh, I'll clean your room. Okay?" Blaine said, realizing how desperate he must sound pleading with his little sister.

"And you have to be on my team next time we play Monopoly." Milly said, crossing her arms. Then she held out her hand, and Blaine shook it. "-and we have to be the hat."

"Deal."

Milly nodded and then looked at Kurt, suddenly shy. She ran back upstairs, and when she was gone, Blaine let out a deep breath and turned to Kurt. Blaine couldn't believe that he had just had to bribe his sister not to tell his parents he was kissing a boy.

"I'm sorry—" Kurt started, but Blaine cut him off.

"Don't be." He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and buried his face in Kurt's neck. "This sucks," he mumbled.

"Do you want me to go?" asked Kurt, running his hand across Blaine's back comfortingly. Blaine wanted to say no, but his mom was going to be back soon, and there was no reason to have Kurt stay if Milly was home. He wanted her to just forget this ever happened.

Kurt pulled away, his hand lingering to hold Blaine's for a second. Then he turned and left, but not before telling Blaine that he could call or text if he needed anything.

After the door shut behind Kurt, Blaine let out another breath. He couldn't believe that he was this stupid—to bring Kurt back to his house when his sister was home. All he could really do now was hope that Milly forgot or would keep her promise. He knew that even all the chocolate in the world couldn't keep that girl from having the incident slip out while she was talking.

_Great._

* * *

><p><strong>Also notice the awesome LINE BREAKS I finally got around to doing! No more of my ridiculous little OOOOOOOO's! Hooray!<strong>_  
><em>


	28. Chapter 28

**Yay! Chapter 28! **

**Thank you all for being so patient with me:3 and also, the other day I was piddling around on the interwebs and I found Milly. No seriously, I came across this picture and it was exactly how I pictured Milly to look like. So if you want to look here's a link: image (.) shutterstock (.) com/display_pic_with_logo/71141/71141,1236804721,1**

**stock-photo-adorable-dark-haired-little-girl-with-curly-hair-smiling-on-black-background-26486854  
>(.) jpg<strong>

**Ignore the huge "shutterstock" lines on her face, lol.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

Later that night, while Blaine's parents sat on the couch together watching some crime show, Blaine crept up the stairs and into Milly's room, finding her awake and reading a book. Flops was laying on the bed by her feet, and his tail gave a lazy thump as he saw Blaine enter.

"Hi, Blaine," greeted Milly, not taking her eyes off the book. Apparently, her book was more interesting than her brother.

Blaine took a deep breath and sat down beside her, attempting to gently pry the book from her hands. She resisted and whined loudly, and Blaine immediately let go, not wanting to attract their parents' attention. "Milly," he started, "I need to talk to you. Please put the book down."

Milly held her finger up, and Blaine sighed, looking down at his hands. She lifted the book close to her face, and Blaine guessed she was speed reading, because not even a minute later, the book was slammed shut and she folded her hands in her lap. "How can I help you?"

"Okay, remember how I told you not to tell Mom and—"

"I didn't tell them!" She exclaimed indignantly, sitting up straight.

Blaine held his hands up in defense. "I know, I know! I was not trying to question your ability to keep a secret! But I just wanted to make sure that you understand that you can never tell them—" he stopped himself. That sounded terrible even to his own ears. "You can't tell them until I tell them, okay?"

"Okay," she answered simply and reached for her book, but Blaine grabbed it before she could and set it behind him, out of her reach.

"Hey!" She pouted, folding her arms against her chest.

"I don't think you're getting how important this is—" Blaine started. Why couldn't she understand the gravity of this?

"Blaine, are you okay? You're kind of freaking me out. And the dog, he's looking at you funny." Sure enough, Flops had his head up, his droopy eyes seemed to be giving Blaine a look.

"Just—Milly. You _can't tell them._" Blaine finished.

"I know, Blaine. You told me like, a million times now. I get it." She rolled her eyes. "Wait, why can't I tell them again?"

Blaine considered this for a moment. He couldn't really tell her that there was a chance that her older brother would not be very welcome in their house anymore, or at least by their mother anyway. "Because," he started, hoping that she would be satisfied with a vague answer, "it's complicated. But I think you would understand that if you told on me, then a lot of people will be upset with me, okay?"

"Is kissing Kurt really that bad?" asked Milly, seemingly at awe with this.

"Uh—to me, no. To everyone else, yes."

"But Kurt doesn't seem bad."

"It's not because Kurt is bad, per se." Blaine started, and he brought his legs up onto the bed crossing his legs up under him. "It's that other people don't like to, uh, to see two boys kissing," he managed to get out, feeling an embarrassed flush on his face. This was never a conversation he pictured having with Milly, or anybody actually.

"Oh," Milly said, looking puzzled. "Why don't they like it?"

Blaine looked around the room, because, wait a second—why did people mind it? Blaine had never really thought about it, all he had ever thought about was how to hide this from everybody (which turned out swell) and not _why. Why _did he have to act "straight" in school? And most of all, _why _did everyone even care?

"Because, people are afraid of what's different than them." Blaine said quietly.

Milly seemed to mull this over in her head, and nodded, as if coming to a conclusion. "That's stupid," she stated, her hand reaching over to scratch Flops behind the ears.

"I know," Blaine laughed. "It is stupid, but that's the way it is."

"So is Kurt your girlfriend?" Milly asked distractedly. She wriggled out of her place under the bed covers and laid down next to Flops, giggling when the dog placed a paw on her stomach and tried to lick her face.

"What—? No! Kurt is boy, which would make him my boyfriend."

"Oh, okay."

Blaine reached out to pet Flops on the belly, and then placed the book that he took by Milly's pillow. He got up to leave, but not before his talkative sister could get in another question.

"Can two boys have a baby?" She asked, looking up at Blaine. By the look on her face, Blaine could tell it was a serious question, and he stumbled around for words.

"Uh, well. No, Milly. They can't—"

"Why not?"

_Oh my god. _"Uh, boys don't have—uh." He brought his hands up and rubbed his face, trying to hold back the hysteric laughter bubbling up inside him. "You need a girl and a boy to make a baby."

"Could Kurt be the girl?"

"No," Blaine said firmly. "And don't ever say that in front of him or you will get me in big trouble."

"More trouble than you will get in if I tell that you were kissing him?"

Blaine thought about this for a moment. "Yes," he said firmly.

"Oh, okay. Wait," she said, pointing at Blaine. "Could _you _have a baby?"

Blaine shook his head, completely bewildered. "No! Milly, I'm a boy too! Only women can get pregnant!"

"Why?"

Blaine couldn't help but let out a laugh, because just _oh my god. _Surely he knew that only women could get pregnant when he was Milly's age, had this girl been living in a bubble her whole life? _Either that or she's less observant than I thought. _Blaine realized that maybe that's to his advantage

"You're in like what—first grade now?"

"Second!"

"Okay, well. I'm sure they will explain to you why that is soon enough. And remember, no telling anyone about Kurt—" he paused, "and if you see him again never call him a girl. If you do both of these then I clean your room, remember?"

"And buy me chocolate and be on my team for monopoly." She reminded him.

"Yeah, and those," Blaine sighed. He would do whatever it took to keep her mouth shut. "Goodnight Milly."

OOOOOOOOOO

The first morning of break, Blaine slept in until noon. For once, he had woken up completely awake, and he rolled over, stretching his legs and reaching over to his nightstand to pick up his phone.

He opened the text from Finn. _There is a god, _it read. Blaine squinted his eyes at the message, then held it up closer to his face—maybe he read it wrong. He typed out a quick message back, _pregnancy scare and you're not the father?_ and opened the next one, which was from Kurt.

_How was dinner? Did milly say anything? Sorry again :/_

The momentary relief that sleep brought him faded away as he was brought back to real life. He had forgotten that his little sister saw him kissing Kurt, and that everything he had tried so hard to keep secret was dependent on an eight year old girl's ability to keep said secret.

_No she didn't say anything. Although she did ask me if two boys could have babies. _He typed back, smiling a little. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded over to his dresser, his phone in his hand. Grabbing a random outfit, he headed towards the shower.

After turning on the water, he read the message his phone had just received. It turned out to be good news from Finn.

_Hahahah_ _youre so funny._ _But be nice to me because 1. Mom and burt are stuck in DC because of snow and 2. I'm leaving to go over to rachels house and her dads are at some jewish thing. So you and Kurt can have the house_

_You say this as if Kurt and I are like, needing the house for sex. Which we aren't btw. Although the gesture is appreciated._

Blaine shook his head and climbed in the shower. He heard his phone buzz on the counter, but decided against leaving the warm water. Ten minutes later, he stepped out of the shower and tied a towel around his waist. He wiped his hand across the mirror so he could see his reflection.

His phone buzzed again, and he saw that he had two texts and a missed call. One of the texts was from Finn, who just sent a message full of _hahahaha_'s. The other was from Kurt, inviting him to come over. The missed call was also from Kurt.

Blaine quickly pressed the call back number, and waited for Kurt to answer his phone.

"I hope you didn't tell her that two boys _could _have babies." Kurt greeted.

"Hello to you, too. And no, I didn't tell her that we could." Blaine said distractedly, searching for his contacts in cabinet under the sink for a new tube of toothpaste. "I mean, if we did. Have sex. We couldn't have babies."

"Yeah, okay, good." Kurt said, and Blaine got the impression that he was being laughed at.

"Anyway," Kurt continued, "Dad and Carole are stuck in Washington because of some snow. Do you want to come over and hang out?"

Blaine searched Kurt's voice for an implication, but he didn't seem to find any. It was hard not to be a little bit disappointed. The lower half of him was screaming that _it's been three weeks already! When do the pants come off? _And the upper half was still completely struck at the fact that Kurt was actually his _boyfriend._

"Yeah, sure!" Blaine said eagerly.

"Cool, see you soon!"

"Bye," Blaine hurriedly hung up and ran out the door and down the stairs before he met anyone else. Car keys in hand, Blaine shut the door as quietly as he could. He pulled out of the driveway with a smile on his face.

OOOOOOOOO

Twenty minutes later, Kurt answered the door, and looked appreciatively at Blaine's outfit.

"That sweater looks awfully good on you." He said, giving Blaine the full up-and-down look. Blaine laughed and walked in the door.

"It does, doesn't it? Someone picked it out for me, but I don't remember who," said Blaine, his nerves still thrummed when Kurt wrapped his arms around him in a 'hello' hug.

"Yes, well. They have wonderful fashion taste." Kurt answered him softly, his fingers teasing gently at the hairs at the nape of Blaine's neck. His fingers absently drew little circles there as he was pulled into a kiss from Blaine. It quickly became heated, and Blaine found himself pushed up against the wall.

The kiss was definitely more intense than anything they had shared before, and Blaine couldn't help the smile that grew on his lips as Kurt's hands went from his neck to his hips because he could totally get used to this _wow._

But then Kurt pulled away, his hands still squeezing at Blaine's hips. Blaine whined and pulled Kurt back; pecking his lips four, five times, making Kurt giggle and smile into the kisses.

"Maybe we should-" Blaine laughed as he cut Kurt off with another kiss.

"-go upstairs." Kurt finally got out.

Blaine nodded, and followed Kurt closely up the stairs, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist halfway up the stairwell. His fingers clasped right over Kurt's stomach, holding him close. Blaine closed his eyes and rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder. It just felt so _good, _and now that Blaine knew that this was _real life _and not just some fantasy he had during English class, he couldn't stop himself from taking every opportunity to touch Kurt.

"Oh my god, Blaine. I'm going to fall over and I will crush you." Kurt said, but he allowed himself to be pulled backwards into Blaine's chest.

"I'm pretty sure you couldn't crush me even if you tried," Blaine pointed out, turning Kurt by the shoulders so he was facing him. He placed a soft kiss on Kurt lips.

"You're so-" Kurt scrunched up his nose and waved his hand vaguely, "_affectionate _today."

"Are you complaining?"

"No, but we do need to make it up the stairs at one point though. I'm making you watch _Moulin Rouge_."

"Mulan _what?"_

OOOOOOOOO

The DVD menu flashed across the screen, replaying the theme music in a never-ending loop. Blaine closed his eyes, resting his head on Kurt's headboard, his fingers lazily playing with Kurt's soft hair.

"What do you want to be when you grow up? Or like, when you were little, what did you want to be?" Kurt asked, his eyes closed too. He was curled up to Blaine's side, with his head resting half under Blaine's arm and half on his chest.

"An astronaut." Blaine answered promptly.

"Wait, really?" Kurt asked, shifting so that he could look up at Blaine.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Don't you think that would be cool? To go out in outer space and to look down on the earth?"

"I never really thought about it." Kurt admitted. "I guess I'm more concerned about what's happening down here. Like Broadway and such," he laughed. He then pulled himself closer to Blaine, laying his arm lazily around his stomach; his head now rested fully on Blaine's chest.

"Hm, well. I don't think I'll ever get to be one. Never one for physics, and I'm definitely not, like, adventurous enough or whatever to work for NASA or something. As if they would ever hire me," Blaine said, his eyes closed, completely blissed out at the fact that Kurt was resting on top of him. At the moment, he couldn't care less about the future. In fact—could he just stay here forever?

"What are you talking about—you help me with physics and science-y math all the time." Kurt said, and Blaine heard a smile in his voice. When he peeked his eyes open, he could barely see Kurt biting his lip, and he wondered if Kurt was experiencing the same thing he was. That weird feeling that made it feel like his chest was going to explode at any second.

"I get, like, basic physics. But like crazy rocket science and quantum physics is really not my thing. I like math, and numbers. Very absolute and sure." Blaine said. It was kind of hard to explain how he felt about numbers. He appreciated physics, just like he appreciated history and English, he just didn't enjoy it like he enjoyed math. Blaine liked having the absolution of finishing a problem with a definite answer.

"What colleges did you apply to?" Kurt asked, changing the subject slightly.

"Ohio State, Cleveland University, NYU, Penn State, and okay, don't laugh—Princeton." Blaine said, and he felt his face grow hot. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that he once thought that he had a chance of getting in there.

"Why would I laugh?"

"I don't know. Princeton is a little bit over my head, don't you think?" He said. Kurt lifted his head off of Blaine's chest and gave him that 'look' that Blaine was oddly growing fond of.

"You have to give yourself more credit, Blaine. You're smarter than you think," Kurt said. He leaned up to give Blaine a quick peck on the lips, but Blaine threaded his fingers in Kurt's hair, holding his face near his. Blaine wasted no time in reconnecting their mouths, trying to recreate the passion that they had at the door earlier.

Blaine's eyes closed and he listened to the soft sounds of Kurt's breathing and the gentle rustling of the sheets. Then he was listening to the rapid sound of his heartbeat as Kurt positioned a leg on either side of him, and pulling away to whisper "_is this okay?" _against Blaine's jaw. He pressed small, open-mouthed kisses against Blaine's jaw.

Blaine's mind had gone completely blank, but he managed to stutter out a, "Oh, it's fine."

Kurt nodded, reattaching his lips to Blaine's, who responded with immediate eagerness, his face lifting up. Blaine's hands awkwardly struggled to find a place to settle; he placed them first on Kurt's hips, then realized that maybe that was too close to his ass, so he slid them up to Kurt's waist, bringing Kurt's shirt up with him.

Immediately, Blaine mentally cursed himself for being stupid, because he was pretty sure they weren't at the stage where they were like, _undressing _each other, but Kurt surprised him by making a sound that wasn't exactly a moan (but was actually really, really hot) and biting Blaine's bottom lip. And Blaine took this to say, _that's okay, now do it again, _and Blaine did.

The room felt like it had increased by thirty degrees in the past five minutes, and Blaine felt sweat near his brow and under his arms. His sweater started to feel sticky and constricting. He slowly started to sit up, trying to take off his sweater while keeping his mouth on Kurt's, who actually tried to help Blaine by pushing the material off his arms.

Now free from his sweater, Blaine ran his hands up Kurt's back, which was a little slick with sweat. His hands came to rest high up on Kurt's back, his shirt was almost pushed up to the armpits. Kurt pulled away from Blaine, who thought that he was going to get a nice scolding on how-not-to-touch-your-new-boyfriend, but Kurt took his fingers and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, swiftly pulling it up and over his head.

It landed somewhere to Blaine's left, but he couldn't be bothered to look, because uh, _hello _there was a shirtless Kurt Hummel on his lap.

Blaine tried to keep his eyes on Kurt's face, which wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. Kurt had the most intense, _hottest,_ look on his face. His hair was a little disheveled, his lips red, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes darker than Blaine had ever seen them.

Of course Blaine had to ruin the moment by saying something like, "_cool." _But luckily Kurt just laughed, a shaky nervous laugh, and leaned back in to kiss Blaine, this time his tongue licking Blaine's bottom lip.

Blaine kept his hands firmly by his side, palms flat on the bed, and Kurt grabbed his hands and placed them on his waist. Blaine opened his mouth to Kurt's tongue, his hands now resting on Kurt's bare waist and _oh my god he could only focus on one thing at a time. _

Kurt's hands also found the bottom the Blaine's shirt, and he started to pull up slowly, probably giving Blaine time to say no if he wanted to-which Blaine definitely wasn't. Leaning forward, away from the headboard he was laying against, Blaine allowed his shirt to be pulled over his head and threw somewhere next to his sweater.

Kurt was now on his knees, leaning back over his calves. His hands seemed to be a lot less shy than Blaine's, running them down the front of Blaine's chest and then leaning forward to wrap his arms around Blaine, scratching slightly at his back.

Blaine struggled to keep his hips back away from Kurt's, because this could get real embarrassing real fast. He tried to look down past Kurt's face to the crotch of his pants, but he couldn't see and gave up. Besides, he could worry about that later, since Kurt was kissing him the way that could only be described as _eating his face-_ in the best way possible, of course.

Getting lost in the moment, Blaine found his hands wandering back up Kurt's waist and to his chest, stopping right below Kurt's nipples. His fingers felt the outline of Kurt's ribs, and he vaguely thought back to the few pornos he's seen. Guys liked it when their nipples were pinched, right? _Yes, yes, they do. _Blaine's fuzzy brain told him, and with his finger he gently outlined Kurt's nipple before pinching the bud between his thumb and index finger.

Kurt shuddered and let out a sound that was something between a squawk and a moan- that actually would have been hilarious at any other time except for now.

Blaine quickly pulled his hands away. "Sorry! Oh my god, I am so sorry. That was weird! Sorry!" He leaned his head back against the headboard and inwardly groaned. Why did he have to ruin _everything?_

"No! No it was fine, just," Kurt took a shaky breath and leaned back on Blaine's legs. "Maybe we should stop. For now," he said, and Blaine saw Kurt's eyes flicker between his face and his crotch and _wow _this could not get any more embarrassing.

Kurt crawled off Blaine's lap and went to collect his shirt. He picked one off the floor and threw it to Blaine somewhat sheepishly, before picking up his own and pulling it over his head. Blaine pulled on his own shirt, desperately wishing that a black hole would swallow him up right now.

Kurt sat down on the bed next to Blaine. Neither of them said anything for a bit- it was the most awkward two minutes of Blaine's entire eighteen year old _life. _

"Sorry, about- you know," Blaine started, but Kurt cut him off.

"No! No, it was fine." Kurt said, his face still a little pink. "I mean, I just wasn't expecting it." He paused, "but, yeah, I liked it, and all- um, do you want food?"

Kurt nearly jumped out of the bed with Blaine right behind him.

"Yeah, food sounds great."

OOOOOOOO

When Blaine got home that evening, his family had already sat down for dinner and was hanging around the kitchen. He walked in slowly, a feeling of paranoia set in. What did they talk about during dinner? Did he come up?

But when he walked into the room, no one jumped on him or started yelling. All he got was a "Hey, Blaine," from his mother, who was placing the dishes in the cabinets as they were handed to her by her husband.

Blaine felt relieved and sat down at the counter next to Milly. "What did you guys have for dinner?" he asked, pulling out his phone. He smiled when he saw that he already had a text message from Kurt. _is_ _it bad that I already miss you? _it read.

_Nope cause I definitely feel the same way :) _Blaine typed back, a giddy feeling settling in his stomach. He doubted that that feeling would ever go away, even if he dated Kurt for years and years.

"We had pizza," his dad announced, "there's some more in the fridge if you want some."

"No, it's okay. I ate at Finn's," Blaine replied.

"You know, I saw Carole at the grocery store the other day," his mother said randomly. "She was with her step-son, Kurt?"

"Yeah." Blaine said shortly, not looking at his mother. He tried to seem as uninterested as possible—which was kind of a hard thing to do with Kurt. "That's him."

"I liked him," Blaine's father chimed in, leaning against the sink with his arms folded across his chest. He was staring right at Blaine, who refused to look up. Blaine felt as if he was being read, as if his thoughts were in bold print across his face.

"You've met him? I've only seen him once or twice at a football game, I think he's, you know," His mother held up her hand and flipped her hand, implying that Kurt was gay. She closed the dishwasher, pressing a few buttons. Then she took the same stance as her husband, and Blaine felt as if he was being fucking interrogated or something. An irritated feeling came over him, and he wanted to yell at them both to _shut up._

Blaine's face burned with embarrassment. This was exactly the type of conversation he was always trying to avoid. He looked to his left, where Milly was sitting dutifully quiet, having not said a word about Kurt. _Good._

Blaine could still feel his father's eyes staring at him. He knew he should have felt happy that he didn't say anything about how Kurt was at that one track meet (which Blaine still sometimes still cringes at because they _lost_), but Blaine just felt himself grow more annoyed. What did his dad want? Blaine to just randomly announce that he and Kurt were dating? Or maybe he just didn't want to get his wife upset again.

But Blaine found it hard to be grateful when he felt that his Dad was putting pressure on him. He gave a pointed look at Milly, who stared innocently back, before leaving the kitchen, throwing an irritated "goodnight" over his shoulder.

"Your grandparents are coming over tomorrow! Be ready to go at eight, we have to pick them up from the airport."

"Okay."


	29. Chapter 29

***hides***

Blaine woke up to his phone alarm going off at seven. He reached over to his bedside table without opening his eyes and grabbed his phone, turning off the alarm with practiced hands. He groaned and pulled the covers tightly over him, trying to recall the dream he was having. His face was kind of sweaty, and his stomach felt weird as he remembered how oddly lifelike the second part of his dream was.

There were lots of foggy details, little snippets of weird things that happened. Something about a strip club, and he remembered Kurt having a lot of dollar bills and throwing them on stage. Blaine kept his eyes closed tightly as he remembered how he had tried to pull Kurt away and out of the club, but his legs felt wobbly, and no matter how much he walked, Kurt stayed at the same distance.

Then he was suddenly sitting down at his kitchen table, with his father and Kurt sitting beside him. Across from him looked like an older version of Milly, her hands clasped in front of her as she stared down at the table.

"Milly?" He had said, but she didn't answer. "Where's mom?" He asked, to no one in particular this time. Across from him, the older Milly shook her head and looked out the kitchen window, tears in her eyes.

Blaine had turned to his father this time, who sympathetically patted him on the back. "She left last night, Blaine."

"What?" He exclaimed, looking at Kurt. He realized that Kurt looked much older too. "Why?"

Kurt looked down at his hand pointedly, and Blaine took a glance at his own hand. On his finger was a gold band.

Blaine couldn't really remember anything after that. Shaking his head slightly, Blaine made his way to the shower and dressed.

Trudging his way down the stairs, Blaine was met by his father. He was leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. His eyes seemed sort of glazed over, and it sort of looked like he wasn't even aware of the drink in his hand.

"Dad?" Blaine walked into the kitchen slowly, not wanting to scare him.

Mr. Anderson jumped a little bit anyway and looked at his son with raised eyebrows, as if surprised to see him. "Oh, good morning," he said, setting his coffee down on the table beside him. "There's still some left in the pot." He gestured towards the coffee pot.

Blaine nodded but didn't go for the coffee. "Don't we have to pick up Grandma and Pop from the airport?" He asked, noting the fact that his mother and sister were nowhere to be seen.

"Their flight got delayed. They won't be here until around two in the afternoon. Apparently, it snows a lot in Minnesota," he said, smiling a little bit. "Oh, how I do not miss those winters," he said, quietly and mostly to himself.

"Oh," Blaine said, feeling annoyed that he had gotten up so early for nothing—and there was no way that he was going to get back to sleep now. Sighing, he went and poured himself a cup of coffee and dug out the creamer from the refrigerator. He poured way more than the suggested dose of the creamer, laughing a bit when his father shook his head, mumbling about how he was "ruining perfectly good coffee."

"Just because I like my coffee with a bit of flavor," Blaine teased, gesturing towards his father's cup, "instead of your bitter, black coffee."

His father took a sip of his coffee, smiling and humming as his son wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Anyway, I think I'm going to have lunch with a friend today, if they're not gonna get in until two," Blaine told him, wrapping his fingers around his mug tightly, letting its warmth spread through his arms and through his body.

Late last night, he had sent a text to Finn containing only two words: _second base._He hadn't answered to any of Finn's texts after that, mostly because he was embarrassed because one, he wasn't actually sure if he made it to second base, and second, oh my god, in the process he had completely freaked his boyfriend out.

"With Katy?" His father asked, looking down at Blaine through his glasses.

Lost in his thoughts, Blaine shook his head. "Hmm? Who?" Then, "Oh! Oh, yeah—no. That ended up not working out," he finished, taking an awkward drink from his mug.

His father nodded and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" There was a small smile on his face, and once again, Blaine felt like he was being laughed at. Blaine pursed his lips and shook his head, "Not a chance."

"Well, do you want to watch Jeopardy?" His father suggested. Watching Jeopardy used to be something they used to do when Blaine was younger—Blaine guessed he owed his bookish-ness somewhat to his father, who made him watch Jeopardy and History Channel specials instead of cartoons on Saturday mornings.

"Sure," Blaine said, smiling. He grabbed his coffee and followed his father into the living room, flopping down on the couch next to his old man, who was already shaking his head at the contestant guessing an answer.

"Wait, who _is _America named after?" His dad puzzled, his eyebrows knitted together. "How do I not know this?"

Two seconds before the answer was called, Blaine muttered "Amerigo Vespucci," and then nodded smugly when he saw that he was right. Ignoring the look his father was giving him, Blaine smiled into his mug, feeling a little bit like a kid again.

OOOOOOOOOO

Three hours later, Blaine and Finn sat in a burger joint. Blaine was distracted by the light snowflakes falling outside the window, but Finn was smirking at him and Blaine asked himself why he told his friend anything in the first place.

"So," Finn started, crumpling up his burger wrapper into a ball. "Second base, huh?" He was still smirking at Blaine and leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. Blaine sort of hoped that he would fall backwards.

Blaine grimaced and set his burger down, not even halfway through with his food. He looked up at Finn, "Yeah."

"Wow, okay. Don't look too thrilled," Finn said, leaning forward so all four chair legs were on the ground. "Is my bro a bad kisser or something?"

Blaine shook his head—he was inwardly cringing at the memory of his and Kurt's first "official" make-out session. "No, he's a fine kisser—and don't call him 'bro', please. I just—oh my god," Blaine groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"Whoa, what happened?" Finn said, attempting to look concerned, but the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards in a curious smile.

"I really don't want to talk about it," Blaine said, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Was it that bad? It couldn't have been. Seriously, like, I've had some bad experiences, and I think mine are worse than yours," Finn pointed out, leaning his elbows on the table as he stared at his friend. He obviously looked forward to the story. "Spill."

Blaine shook his head. He actually didn't doubt this statement, but he still didn't want to tell Finn—he knew that Finn wouldn't let it go.

"Come on, Blaine! I told you about the one time, remember? In Quinn's hot tub? When—"

Blaine held a hand up, signaling for Finn to _stop right there._"I know what happened in Quinn's hot tub," he said, closing his eyes and trying to keep his brain from bringing back the mental picture of that scenario.

"Okay, fine. It could not have been more embarrassing than that."

Blaine sighed, his eyes raised to the ceiling. "Alright, do you promise not to laugh?"

Finn shook his head, "No promises. But just to remind you, you laughed for hours—no, _days_actually when I told you about the hot tub incident."

Blaine shrugged. That was actually pretty fair. He took a deep breath, "I pinched his nipples."

"Huh?" Finn tilted his head at him, as if he didn't hear him right.

Blaine looked around the restaurant. There was hardly anyone here, which was good. Blaine really didn't want to be telling his failed sexual exploits to an audience, whether they were with a boy or a girl. He turned back to Finn, making pinching gestures with his thumb and forefinger.

Finn stared at him with his mouth open, slowly forming a wide smile. It wasn't long before he was laughing loudly, his chair leaning back as he laughed.

"You are such a douche," Blaine said, his face coloring. He took a french fry and threw it at Finn, getting some revenge when it landed square on Finn's forehead, bouncing off to land on his shirt.

However, Finn picked up the fry and stuffed it in his mouth, still laughing at Blaine but not quite as loudly, thankfully. The two other occupied tables in the place were starting to stare.

"Oh my god, Blaine. You are so weird!" Finn exclaimed, clapping his hands gleefully.

"No! No—it's not funny!" Blaine said, throwing another french fry, except this time it missed, and it went flying over Finn's shoulder, earning him a glare from the lone server behind the bar.

"Well, I mean. That's like, kinky," Finn said, stifling his laugh.

"Really?" Blaine asked. "Was it that weird? I mean—I didn't really think about it. It—it just happened and then Kurt was all like 'we should stop' and—I don't know. Do you think he's like, totally creeped out?"

Finn shook his head, calmed down some. He reached over and stole one of Blaine's fries. "Well," he started, his mouth full. "Probably not. I guess it's really not _that_weird—but definitely not something that happens on the first date—"

"It wasn't our first date though," Blaine pointed out.

"Okay, fine. But your first date was probably lame. Or the ending of it was, wasn't it?"

Blaine shrugged. "Depends on what your definition of lame is," he said vaguely, knowing full well that everything he did was Finn's, and mostly everyone else's in the world, version of 'lame.'

"But I wouldn't worry about it so much, it's not like he kicked you out or anything. It wasn't _that _weird." Finn said, suddenly deciding to be a good friend.

"Really?" Blaine said hopefully. He pushed his fries over to Finn so that he could finish them.

"Thanks. And yeah, trust me, first, like, make outs are always weird. Same with other stuff. But I don't need to know about that."

Blaine shook his head and smiled, "wasn't planning on telling you."

"Good." Finn paused, pushing the fries around with the one in his hand, then looked at Blaine smiling, "so are you into like, bondage stuff, too?"

"Oh my god, _shut up."_

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The airport was jam packed with tired looking travelers, no doubt having been there for more than six hours. Flights were being delayed left and right, and Blaine, sitting on his chair, was silently fuming and cursing the weather—there were only so many hours of airport-sitting he could do. Coupled with the fact that his mother had a major headache and Milly would not _shut up_about being bored, Blaine was two seconds away from going crazy.

To make things worse, Kurt wasn't answering his phone, so Blaine had no one to talk to. So Blaine sat, frustrated and worried that he had actually messed things up with Kurt, for three hours.

His mother reached over and placed her hand on Blaine leg. "Blaine, honey, _please_go get your sister something to drink or something."

She, too, looked one step away from tearing out her hair. Blaine considered sitting there defiantly with his arms crossed, but he just sighed and offered his hand out to Milly, who took it gleefully.

Behind him, he saw his mother relax into her chair, closing her eyes. Beside him was a bouncing seven year old, who had too much energy for her own good.

"Alright," he said. "Where am I taking you?"

"Ooh, let's go to Starbu—"

"No. The last thing you need right now is coffee," Blaine said firmly, eyeing the long line in front of the coffee place. He doubted that he would have enough patience to stand in line for his little sister to order a vanilla Frappuccino. He kept a firm grip on her hand as she veered from side to side, looking at all the shops.

Milly rolled her eyes, "Fine. What about Cinnabon?"

"Alright, whatever," Blaine relented and let himself be pulled into a small shop. The line wasn't that long compared to the one at Starbucks, where the line was pouring out the door and around the corner.

When they were up at the counter, Milly pointed to the biggest cinnamon roll she saw, and the guy behind the counter dutifully got it for her.

"Here you go," he said, handing the treat to Milly, then flashing an amused smile at Blaine, who just stared for a second, before awkwardly smiling back. He felt a little guilty for noticing, but this guy was _hot._He had blonde hair that did that thing where it looked like the guy did nothing more than roll out of bed to style it—but it still looked good—and brown eyes with a straight nose.

Blaine felt himself go red and he struggled to dig his wallet out of his pocket, trying to thumb through the bills without dropping anything. Next to him, Milly was already distracted by a candy display with lollipops the size of her head.

"Blaine—" she started, pointing at the candy, but Blaine already shook his head no. This was apparently the wrong answer, because she immediately stomped her foot and whined.

"Blaaaine, _puh-lease!_ Look how cool they are!" She said, taking one from the rack and shoving it into Blaine's face. The guy behind the counter waved his hand to say 'take your time' as he helped the next customer quickly.

"No! I can't buy you that! Mom will kill me. It's bad enough I bought you a giant cinnamon roll." He tried to coax her to put the candy back. He was well aware of the guy behind the counter—who was so incredibly _cute_and Blaine couldn't believe this was happening, he was so _embarrassed._

"Get this for me instead of the chocolate!" She said, trying to shove the lollipop into Blaine's hand.

"No, I said that I would get you chocolate. That was the deal, remember? I will get you that later, now come on, the flights going to be here in any second—"

"I'll tell them!" Milly said, holding the lollipop to her chest. "I'll tell them that you were kissing Kurt!" Blaine closed his eyes as he felt a deep flush develop on his face quickly. The lady in line behind him was blatantly laughing and the cashier was trying his best to hide a smile.

Even though Blaine knew that Milly didn't really understand how important it was to him to keep a secret, he was still fighting the urge to slap her upside the head.

Blaine sighed and yanked the lollipop from her hands and banged it on the counter, then fished out money from his wallet. His face was still bright red as he shoved the cash into the man's hand, muttering to add a small mocha to their order.

He took the coffee in silence, still not able to make eye contact with anybody as they walked out of the store; Milly with her lollipop and cinnamon roll, and Blaine with his coffee.

Luckily, Blaine noticed that there was writing on the side of the paper cup before he sat down with his parents. He turned the cup around in his hands, blushing as he read the messy handwriting of the cashier.

There was a phone number and a little note under it—_here's my number if you and Kurt don't work out._

Blaine inwardly groaned—this was the worst day _ever._There was even a little p.s. note under it, and Blaine fought the urge to throw the cup away and not even read it, but curiosity overtook him. The writing was quite a bit smaller, and messier, as if the man had decided to add it last second.

_Don't be so ashamed, it's okay._

It actually surprised Blaine so much that he stopped walking, letting Milly wander back to their seats alone. His insides felt like they were dumped in ice, and he actually started laughing. Because this guy had actually written that on his cup—saying that as if it were _that simple._

_Don't be so ashamed._

The sad part was that Blaine knew it was that simple.

OOOOOOOO

The terminal opened and the airport flooded with weary fliers, who all looked relieved to get off the plane. Beside him, Milly was jumping ecstatically and trying to find their grandparents through all the people. She was the one who spotted them first, and took off running.

"Grandpa!" She yelled, jumping into her grandfather's arms. Blaine and their parents were close behind, grabbing luggage, and Blaine leaned down slightly to hug his grandma.

"My!" She exclaimed, holding Blaine by the shoulders and looking at him up and down. "You've grown! My goodness, the girls must be all over you at school!" She said, and Blaine tried not to look uncomfortable, and luckily his Dad cut in.

"Well, they are. Blaine's quite the heartbreaker," he said, laughing at Blaine's groaning and complaints. "He did have a girlfriend, for a little—" his grandmother's mouth dropped open, probably going to ask for details, but his dad continued. "But I think he decided to focus more on schoolwork, right?"

Blaine quickly nodded, jumping on board. "Yeah, totally. I mean I've already applied to most of the schools, but they do pay attention to whether you keep your grades up…"

"Yep, says Mister _Princeton_—" His dad has said the magical words, and all talk about Blaine's fictional girlfriend was forgotten.

"_Princeton_?" His grandmother started, hooking her arm through Blaine's. "Now you must tell me all about this! How come you didn't tell me! I can't believe it—my grandson going to Princeton!" She placed her other hand over her heart, "My ladies at my bridge table _have_to hear this!"

Blaine laughed, relieved. "There's a difference between applying to a college and getting in, you know."

"Yes, well. They would be crazy not to let you in…" his grandmother kept going, and Blaine looked over his shoulder at the rest of his family following him. Milly was hanging off the arm of their grandmother, talking a mile a minute and jumping, their mom trying to get her to calm down a little bit, even though it looked like he didn't mind. Blaine caught the eye of his father, who was pulling along the suitcase, and he raised his eyebrows at Blaine as if to say _you're welcome._

OOOOOOO

Dinner wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He loved his grandpa and grandmother to pieces, but as older, more old-fashioned people do, they had views that were maybe a little bit different from Blaine's. And they weren't exactly afraid to voice them.

It wasn't anything that Blaine couldn't ignore. He put up with it because, well, they're his grandparents and, he hated to admit it, they could call him a fag, disown him, and kill his puppy and he would probably still crawl back, begging for them to love him again.

He thought that that was most likely a problem, and a viewpoint like that probably wasn't normal—but that was really how he felt. He wouldn't change himself for them, but he wouldn't accept rejection.

Blaine looked around the table, taking in his family as they all ate Christmas dinner. There was a tree lit in the background, and a fire crackling in the fireplace. It was actually a perfect greeting card picture. The only problem was that the people in the picture weren't perfect.

There was a tingling sensation under Blaine's skin, on his arms, under his scratchy sweater that his mother forced on him. What if he were to just tell them—right now? If he just stood up and announced that he was gay—and he had an awesome boyfriend to show it?

But instead, he just laughed at some joke that his mother made, and then before the dessert was brought out, he slipped his hand into his grandmothers and bowed his head to pray, his eyes closing as he listened to the soft voice of his grandfather.

He wouldn't ever come out to his grandparents. Their love was not something he was willing to risk.

OOOOOOOOOO

That night was hard for Blaine. He felt immensely guilty, and he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning in his sheets. Around two in the morning, he finally got up and made his way downstairs, vaguely thinking about getting some ice cream.

When he got downstairs, he saw that the kitchen light was already on, and he could just barely hear the sound of soft conversation.

"… I thought that maybe you would have another situation. Like the one with Drake," Blaine heard his grandmother say, and he shrunk back onto the stairs, where he was positive he couldn't be seen.

"I don't think it's hereditary," his father spoke this time, his voice sounding vaguely amused.

"Well, I saw a study that said it was. You can't ever be sure can you," his grandmother sighed. "But I think he's fine. He's a good boy, just very focused on his studies, right? And he had a girl for a while, you said?"

"Yes, mom. Stop worrying about it—"

Blaine didn't hear anything else, climbing the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could. He shut the door behind him and ran to his bed, fumbling around on his nightstand for his phone before pulling the covers up and over his head. His stomach was churning.

The phone's light was too bright under the darkness of the covers, and Blaine had to squint as he scrolled through his contacts, finally finding Kurt's.

It rang and rang, and finally hit Kurt's voicemail. Blaine cursed and hung up, immediately calling again, listening to the ring, and then—

"Hello?" came Kurt's sleepy voice. Blaine didn't immediately answer, his mouth opening but not a sound would come out.

"Blaine? Are you there?" He sounded a little bit more alert now, and Blaine heard some shuffling, like Kurt was sitting up in his bed.

"Yeah, I'm here," Blaine finally said, his pajama-clad legs curling up into his chest. It was too warm under the sheets, and he was started to sweat a little bit, but he didn't want to push back the covers. "Is it written on my head?" He asked quietly.

"Is what written on your head?"

"That I'm, you know…" Blaine trailed off, turning onto his side, his legs still curled up tightly into him. He was trying to ignore how much he sounded like a teenage girl. Kurt didn't say anything, so Blaine went on.

"Like, I don't act like it—and loads of guys don't have girlfriends, so why does everyone suspect me?"

Kurt sighed, "Nobody suspects you, Blaine."

"My grandmother does! She was saying that she was worried about me—"

"That could have meant anything," Kurt tried to console him. "Maybe she meant the fact that you spend way too much of your time doing your homework," he teased Blaine, who smiled halfheartedly.

"No, I know what she meant. I could tell. And it's like, _how?_It's not like I act gay—for Christ sakes, I'm on the damn football team!" Blaine said, lowering his voice even though he knew no one could hear him beneath the covers and behind the closed door. "And this cashier guy, at the airport, he knew. But, I mean, I guess that's not my fault. Milly kind of announced it to the whole store—"

"Wait- what?"

"Oh yeah, I meant to tell you about that. So I brought Milly to get her a snack at the airport, and she wanted some stupid lollipop and I told her no. So she pretty much blackmailed me in front of the whole store, saying that she will tell my parents about you and stuff. And then the cashier was laughing and the people behind me were, and then the guy gave me his phone number and wrote a note telling me not to be ashamed. Long story short it was the worst ten minutes of my life," Blaine finished.

There was a long pause on Kurt's end before "He gave you his phone number?"

Blaine had to laugh, and assured Kurt that he was not planning on calling the guy. "But he was kind of cute," he added. Once again there was a pause on Kurt's side, so Blaine added for good measure: "But not as cute as you."

"So, were you embarrassed because your sister announced that you were gay or that you were kissing me? Like, are you ashamed of kissing me?" Kurt asked quietly, and Blaine cursed silently in his head.

"No, I mean," he sighed, trying to find a way to put his feelings into words. "I'm not ashamed of kissing you, it's just that—yeah." Blaine said lamely. "It wasn't mostly that I was ashamed, I was mostly just _embarrassed._And it's kind of crazy that she could just almost blackmail me so easily—"

"I wasn't aware that being gay was blackmailing material—seeing that it's nothing to be ashamed of." Kurt said matter-of-factly, and Blaine could see him in his mind. Kurt's hands would be folded in his lap, his eyes down and eyebrows raised in the perfect bitch face that managed to make Blaine want to kick himself.

Blaine sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He said nothing, knowing that he had unintentionally upset Kurt, and there was really nothing he could do about it, since Kurt was right, as usual. He listened to the other boy breath for a while, waiting for him to say something.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said quietly.

"No, I am," Kurt sighed, "You called me because your grandma was being crazy and now _I'm_bitching at you for something that happened and doesn't really matter anyway."

"But it kind of does matter," he insisted. "It's just—I really want to kiss you right now." He finished in a whisper. It was true, and it just sort of came out. He heard Kurt giggle softly on the other end.

"That's nice."

"What? You don't want to kiss me too?" Blaine teased, his hand settling on his stomach, where a heat was starting to grow. He squeezed his eyes shut, a wide smile on his mouth, and he bit his lip to stop it.

"I do…" Blaine had to press the phone tightly to his ear to hear what Kurt said next. "Among other things."

Blaine let his smile burst onto his face; it was so big that it was hurting his cheeks. He was flushing, partly because of how hot it was under the covers, and because of Kurt.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kurt said, and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice as well.

That was the end of the conversation, even though they stayed on the phone for four more hours after that.

Kurt hummed a tune under his breath while Blaine dozed off to sleep, wondering how Kurt does this to him.


End file.
